


The Balance Between Us

by Proper_Goodnight



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Ben Solo Lives, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo is a Mess, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), POV Alternating, POV Ben Solo, POV Rey (Star Wars), Pilot Poe Dameron, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey & Rose Tico Are Best Friends, Rey Needs A Hug, Soft Ben Solo, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, The Force, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 123,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proper_Goodnight/pseuds/Proper_Goodnight
Summary: "I was happy when you took your place at my side and raised your saber to fight with me. You saved me, and that has to mean something to them just as much as it does to me." They couldn't be, the two of them, and she constantly kicked herself for that fact. The resistance wouldn't accept him and it was the only place she felt as if she belonged. Well, except for right then.
Relationships: Ben Solo & Rose Tico, Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Finn, Poe Dameron & Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey & Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 116
Kudos: 117





	1. Like A Light (Rey)

Rey had never imagined what her death would be like before now. 

It would not have been a bad idea to contemplate the  _ possibility.  _ After all, she had come close numerous times, the majority of which had been  _ before  _ her Jedi training had even started when she was nothing more than a scavenger in the scorching deserts of Jakku. Never mind her battles with Kylo Ren, with the supremacy in the throne room, and basically every strike she had made against the First Order since. 

Naturally, it had to be her grandfather that had finally struck her down.

Family drama at its finest. 

Regardless of the  _ how _ , it was likely that the sensation was still very much the same--inviting itself to embrace her with open arms. Welcoming.  _ Warm.  _

Urging her to rest, to close her eyes and let her journey end there in the caves of Exogol among the dirt, the ash, and the  _ blood.  _

In the end, it was her exhaustion that won, aching and tired muscles practically screaming. The brightly lit sky blurred above her head, ships crashing into flames becoming mere shapes, people screaming--some cheerful, others calling in outrage and in scorn--deafened in her ears.

The stench of death and smoke grew further away, her broken body left lying there in the remnants of the war. 

Except, what she had expected of death never came, she realized as she opened her eyes to nothingness. Unless, this is what was meant to be on the other side?

A voice called out to her; called her name. 

She whipped around in the darkness to face the soft melody that housed an edge of authority. It ushered the barest trace of a smile that outweighed any previous fear she may have felt of this unknown place, this  _ in-between.  _

“General Organa.” She greeted the translucent silhouette, her heart practically leaping around the inside of her chest. The previous general’s life transcended the force during her fight with Kylo Ren on Endor--when she’d given it so willingly to pull her son back to the light. Was there some other purpose left unfulfilled? 

“Did I fail you, Master?” One tentative step forward, if only to prove to herself that she could, echoing into the silence and yet never reaching an end. Her movements were sluggish, as if she were moving underwater, detached from her own body. Her previous master may not have been touching her, but she felt the weight of an embrace holding her upright. 

Leia shook her head. Transparency softened her features, her movements fluid and without the burden that came with age--unless that was simply another thing that death would offer, a gift that could come from this  _ place _ . It gave the woman a more youthful look about her, something more akin to peace. “Not yet, but there is more that I need from you.”

Rey’s head swiveled around in a panoramic view, looking through the very depths of the in-between as though what was needed of her would somehow magically make itself known. It didn't. “This is it.” She shrugged helplessly, an eerie sense of calm settling over her. “Why am I here if my journey still continues?”

“The Dyad is strong. Even death cannot interfere in some cases.”

Her brows pinched together, a different sensation suddenly tugging at her subconscious. Something lulling her into a sense of security, of  _ safety.  _ It began as a scratching insistence in the back of her head, searching for  _ something  _ inside before giving way to a surprising warmth. Usually, such a sensation she would shut out, ignore it and hope it would go away of its own accord. Only because it meant that she would give more than she intended, would show a vulnerable side of herself to someone that had no reason for seeing it. Someone she never had the strength to so easily shove out of her life.

Like a voice in the back of her mind, he was always there.

_ Ben.  _

“It is Ben.” Leia echoed her thoughts aloud, the words whirling themselves into the void. Into  _ nothing.  _ “He is giving you his life force. Destiny speculates that he should come join me and his father, Luke and his grandfather, but the force is demanding otherwise it would seem.” She laughed at that, a small dry laugh that didn't quite match the otherwise stoic expression on her face. “There are still plans for you. Both of you. Don’t give up on him, Rey.”

A smile grasped at the edges of her mouth, fighting back the tears that threatened to come through. Had it not been a sense of relief welling inside of her, they may have fought their way out with little regard to how she would look to her previous leader, previous  _ master.  _

But Ben was okay, and Rey--she’d get to go home. To the resistance, to her friends and to the family that she had found on her own. And to Ben who had every reason to be given a second chance. “I won’t.” She promised. “I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain.”

Leia’s lips moved once again, but this time it was inaudible, and no extent of squinting or her own voice projecting inaudibly in question could make out her words. Her transparent figure faded into the fog, sweeping away into non-existent wind and throwing itself into the never ending darkness. 

The tugging sensation that she had felt previously yanked her backward. 

Then, her back hit nothing. 

The force knocked the breath from her lungs, and she gasped inward. The air tasted like ash, like smoke, and like death but she was alive. 

_ Alive  _ in the caves of the Sith.

Above her, fleets of ships plummeted toward the earth. Lightning streaked across the sky clad in a red and orange hue, splitting through the clouds of smoke and splitting them apart. Like a light, it burned.

It was  _ beautiful.  _

First attempts to speak had been fruitless, her lips parting but no cohesive sound coming out. Her throat felt dry and constricted and flexing her fingers was met with resistance. One hand still grasped tightly around her lightsaber, the other bunching the fabric at someone’s waist. Through the damp cold that settled within the cave, warmth radiated through the clothing into her hand.

“Rey,” The breathless whisper of her name and Ben was looking at her.  _ Really  _ looking at her, one hand braced around her back, the other coming to rest on her hand. 

He helped her to sit up, and her eyes found his face at last. 

Silence hung in the air between them briefly.

“Ben,” Came her whisper of a response, a brightly lit smile etching itself upon her face. “We did it. We won.”

Her hand came to rest on his cheek, tangling in the damp strands of his hair and looking into dark but  _ hopeful  _ pools of brown. Tears held in his eyes, settling over a gratified expression. 

Drawn in by a sense of longing, a sense of  _ want _ , of a connection, Rey closed the little distance that filtered between them until their lips met. 

Their kiss lasted only a second, lips against lips, his breath on her cold skin, the stench of war surrounding them on all sides and threatening to grab hold. At that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing except when they parted, and Ben  _ actually  _ smiled, a longing grin followed by a laugh of pure relief, pure  _ hope.  _ Something akin to a genuine happiness Rey hadn’t been sure if Ben would  _ ever  _ feel. 

He could only nod. His arms around her were tight. “You won.” He whispered then, his forehead coming to rest against her own, breathing her in and reveling in the moment as though afraid she would disappear. 

Rey didn’t let go. 

Around them, the caves of Exogol were lurching, the cracks in the ground opening into bigger indentations that split into chasms. The bodies of their enemies fell through, colliding with the cave walls and vanishing into the endless depths below. Rubble hit the ground and shattered, aiding in the ground’s already dilapidating state. 

It urged Rey to her feet, and although it was a gesture she regretted, it was one that had to be done. Untangling herself from Ben, she pulled him upward, catching his slight stumble and the weight he was refusing to put on his right leg. Draping one of his arms across her shoulders, her other hand wrapped around his waist and ushered him forward.

He hesitated, keeping the majority of his weight on his own. Being much bigger than she was, his weight in his current state was not something she felt that she could handle; not on her own. Thankfully, he was helping where he could, but the pained grunts coming from him did leave her with a prickling sensation of guilt. 

“Just lean on me!” Rey ordered, adjusting him on her own. 

As they limped down the path, they somehow managed to catch each stray stone and crack, and Rey found herself adjusting Ben against her shoulder every few feet, but they pressed on to the only exit that hadn’t been blocked by debris or stone walls as the world around them quite literally fell apart. 

Thankfully, he listened, even if his eyes stole a glance up to the ceiling caving in. How the crashing ships only aided its impending threat. Briefly, she wondered if he was thinking of Luke’s betrayal, how he had used his connection to the force to pull the ceiling in on them both…

_ No, no. Now was not the time to think about that.  _

They were so slow. So  _ agonizingly  _ slow. 

Ahead of them, a light signaled an exit and she pressed on at a hastened pace, even if the effort of supporting his weight warned her against pushing herself too hard from her own rapidly growing exhaustion. Ben nearly buckled at her side, but she forced him upright as the ground continuously opened up, vibrations shaking their already unsteady balance. 

With every shake it forced her to readjust, and she feared the possibility of them being swallowed up and sent to a fate of nothing, to drown in the neverending darkness opening up… 

“What do you want to do when  _ we  _ get home, Ben?” Rey was careful in putting emphasis on the word “we”. Of course she wouldn’t go home without him. If fate so willed it, she’d likely sit in the cave forever with him even if to rot. Only because if fate would deal him an unfair hand, she would share the burden.

“ _ What _ ?” Ben asked, breathless at her side. 

“You can do anything you know,” She mused, a soft tired gaze fixated on the only way forward. “We could go hunting.” She offered. “I could use a break from training courses for a while, I think.” It was a lame attempt to keep their focus on something else, but Rey--ever the positive one--still took an attempt to try. To get him to  _ see  _ her, or at least see that he had her if nothing else. He always did. She had wanted to grab his hand, and in the end she'd taken it. After the end, she continued to hold it. 

Right now it was one of the few things that made sense. 

“I’m… not sure.” He answered, breathless. “It… isn’t my biggest concern right now.”

They burst through the cave’s exit, the world outside coming into focus more clearly now. It crumbled, pieces tumbling through a brightly lit sky. When she turned to Ben, he didn’t blink, instead gazing upon her as if she were the only important thing to him at that moment. His lips trembled, words forming in his throat but nothing coming to light. It stayed in the back of his complicated mind far out of her reach.

Their urgency remained the priority despite both clearly wanting to stop for rest. Whatever it happened to be was a conversation that had to wait, everything still descending into chaos but the ship that she had driven to Exogol was thankfully intact.

The hand that braced across her shoulder had curled into a fist.

“Come on.” Ben said. “We have to go.”

Pieces of shattered Star Destroyers and and X-Wings crashed nearby, followed by another, and then  _ another.  _ Being in the direct flight path of remnants from the battle, the cracked earth swallowed up the majority of the debris, but she would not let it swallow them up as well. 

Readjusting their weight once again, her hand clutched tightly at his own, the other coiling tighter around her waist as they hobbled on to the X-Wing that she had taken there, old but thankfully unscathed. She caught Ben looking around with vague confusion as though something were missing, but for the moment Rey decided against asking him the reason.

Luke’s X-Wing should not have made the trip, being submerged in the ocean of the isolated island as long as it was, but Rey was hopeful that it could make the return trip home. Truly, they didn’t have much more banking on them than that. “I’m going to have to squeeze you behind the cockpit.” She mused aloud much to Ben’s distaste as she left him leaning against the rusted metal to climb up one of its wings. 

It would be a tight fit, but it had to work. It  _ had  _ to. 

Adjusting the pilot’s seat forward, unfortunately in Ben’s position he wouldn’t have enough leg room to stretch out comfortably, but leaving him behind was not even an option she would entertain. 

Activating the inner computer, it beeped rapidly as it activated its core systems. The control panel’s switch lights turned on one by one, the ship shuddering to life before it was ready to take off. 

Behind her, a loud crash forced her to whip around, her eyes catching Ben who had darted to the side in order to avoid a flying piece of shrapnel that tumbled into the opening abyss. She smiled sheepishly at his vaguely irritated expression, climbing down the ship to help assist him inside. 

To say that she had ever seen Ben Solo annoyed was an understatement. Watching him squeeze behind the cockpit of the X-Wing had been an amusing enough experience as it was, his knees pulled against his chest and squeezed into a corner. It had ushered a laugh from Rey--one that was met with a gentle glare--but she didn’t wait to hear his complaints, settling into the pilot’s seat and fumbling for the controls. 

With practiced precision, her hands flew over the consoles, flipping switches and pressing buttons until the hatch closed over their heads and the hum of the ship--aided by debris pounding against their glass cover--drowned out any attempt at conversation. 

She could feel Ben behind her; his labored breathing, his soft intake of breath as he struggled to cope with his injuries. She couldn’t look now, instead focused on pulling the ship into the air. They ascended into the atmosphere--albeit unsteadily, a signal managing to come through despite the chaos. Excited. Cheering. Genuine happiness and celebrating  _ victory.  _

The resistance.

Rey jumped as a voice boomed over the comms, filling the empty space in the ship with a demanding insistence.

“Rey?! I see the X-Wing. Tell me that’s you!” 

“Poe, we-” She froze, debating then how much was  _ too  _ much to tell him at that point in time. Already imagining the outrage, the hatred, the demand for answers if they knew the infamous Kylo Ren was on her ship and on his way back to the resistance base. “I’m okay.” She assured him, steering directly past the mass of other ships crowding an otherwise vast empty space. All resistance, all numerous than what they had originally came to Exogol with.

_ So they had heeded their call…  _

Her heart sank. 

“Do you need assistance? We’re rendezvousing back on Crait-”

The comm was flipped off with an insistent click and silence settled inside of the cockpit once more. There was nothing. Nothing other than the inner mechanics of the ship and its engine. 

Out of the corner of her peripherals, she just caught tousled dark hair propped against the wall, head leaned back with an expression of passiveness. If his pain tolerance was not very high, she may have just heard him gasp, wince, groan,  _ something _ . Instead, the only sounds that escaped him were labored breaths and and one last tired sigh. 

They had made it.  _ Rey  _ had made it. And it was finally quiet.

She was relieved too.

Until Ben spoke. 

“I doubt your…  _ friends _ … the resistance will be happy to see me.” She heard him muse from behind her, his words raking her own fears down her spine. 

“I know.”

“They’re only going to see me as Kylo Ren.”

“I know.”

Rey could feel it, his eyes burning through the pilot’s seat into the back of her head, tense and with a mock anger marking his soft features. Some sort of spark suddenly lit in him, and she didn’t have to look back to know that he was drowning, mouth pulled into that usual tight line. “They won’t understand. I’m not like your resistance friends. Kylo Ren is still a part of me, even if you refuse to see it. I killed their friends.” She heard him inhale sharply. “Their families.  _ Me _ .” 

The ship lurched upward with Rey’s growing irritation, her motions on the controls becoming more agitated as the ship flew at a much more unsteady velocity, away from the resistance fighters, further and further until they were nearly hitting the atmosphere at light speed. The ship groaned in protest, but she pushed it harder, even as it quaked fighting against gravity. Even with the diagnostics flickering across the screen and warning her against it. 

It was a chance at a distraction, focusing all of her attention in keeping the ship in the air. His words stuck with her, each a thread weaving in her mind and forcing her to come to terms with the fact that Ben was right. He was absolutely right, no matter how much she wanted to run from the truth. 

The resistance would cast him out into the deepest parts of the galaxy.  _ Alone _ . They would sooner see him dead than welcome him as their own. He’d taken so many of them, had wreaked havoc amongst the resistance fighters, and they would want to see their vengeance answered. On Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, either way to them, he would always be the same person. 

Except, she had promised Leia that she would look after him. That stayed with her, etched itself into the very deepest parts of her being, and she hadn’t any intentions of breaking it. And  _ Han _ . How he’d given his life to prove that Ben was still inside of Kylo Ren  _ somewhere.  _ It had only taken enough sacrifices to finally pull him back. Their sacrifices couldn’t be in vain.

“I  _ know. _ ” Rey found herself whispering. 

Another sharp intake of breath, and he was gritting his teeth. “Do you remember how you looked at me when we talked on the island? About how I killed…” He hesitated, and for a moment, she almost turned around if just to be sure that he hadn’t suddenly killed over on her. But then he continued, attempting to form coherent sentences that didn’t quite piece themselves together, rather a word that didn’t fit well on his lips. “ _ Han _ . It’s exactly how they will feel, and how they should. They’ll remember.”

Perhaps it was ridiculous to think that he could wedge himself in with the resistance fighters and try to make something of his life. Some things didn’t heal with time. The legacy of Kylo Ren was one of those things. 

But there  _ had  _ to be a way.  _ Had  _ to. 

“I will see them all every time I close my eyes. I’ll hear them plead and cry before I took their lives from them.”

Once more, he paused.

“And I’m sorry.”

His apology came so softly, at first she hadn’t been sure if she’d heard it. She’d felt it, the sorrow. His despair, and his grief connected them by a thread through their Dyad. His doubt and regret had been kept at a distance, overshadowed by the rage that had pulled him to the dark side because he had been abandoned in a world that didn’t make room for him. Because the people closest to him hadn’t been there.

The vulnerability she’d felt had initially opened her mind to him. Their shared visions, and with those shared visions, she’d been able to label him as something other than a monster that so many others sought fit to see him as. 

And Rey wanted to reach for him, wanted to pull him close and break the ocean of emotions constantly threatening to pull him away from her and take him under. Drown him. 

But she had her own demons to face first, the truth of her lineage having come to light. It’d been easy at first to push away when she was dying, only because then it hadn’t mattered. It’d been easy to pretend the truth wasn’t there in her attempts at pulling Ben from the caves. Now that they were there,  _ alive, _ she had nothing else to do in the uneasy silence than to reflect. 

Kylo Ren had been honest with her about the darkness that plagued her bloodline. Coming face to face with her grandfather had only slapped the truth in her face, and suddenly the constant pull to the dark side had made so much more sense. Its unwavering enticement; the magnification. 

Seeing the coordinates, the ship lunged into hyperspace rattling them in their tight confines. Rey turned in her seat just enough to catch Ben in her peripherals, how very  _ human _ he looked right then in the unwavering solemnity. His walls were gone, his guards shut down. Whatever biting remark she could find died before it could leave her lips and instead she raked a soft glare over him, her lips moving with unspoken uncertainty. 

“I don’t care. I’m  _ not  _ going to leave you.” She had promised Leia, and the resolve in her voice was steeled by that. At least, that’s what she assured herself it was. It didn’t have anything to do with genuine feelings tugging at her heart. No, it was  _ just  _ a promise. 

“I was happy when you took your place at my side and raised your saber to fight with me. You saved me, and that has to mean something to them just as much as it does to me.” They couldn’t be, the two of them, and she constantly kicked herself for that fact. The resistance wouldn’t accept him and it was the only place she felt as if she belonged.

Well, except for right then.

She shook her head, willing the thoughts away and turned forward again. Stars sped by them in burning streaks of light, illuminating the dark vastness of space. 

“I don’t know if they will see it the way you do.” Ben attempted to convince her. “One act of kindness will not atone for years worth of damage. Several million lives over just one.” He reached forward through the cockpit, his fingers brushing against her arm and sending chills down her spine. “ _ Please,  _ Rey.” He sounded so soft, so  _ defeated.  _ “I didn’t save you to lock you in any sort of debt. I did it…” Again, that hesitation as he picked for the right words. “Because I wanted to. I was  _ worried  _ about you, and I knew that I could.”

All at once, his hand retreated, leaving a cold uninviting and rather unwanted space between them. The burning sensation left her as he shifted away, instead turning that attention elsewhere. Not that there was very much to look at in the first place. He must have taken her silence as a well enough answer, as he spoke no more and instead leaned his head back with a soft exhalation of breath.

Quietly, he requested she wake him up when they arrived, his voice no more than a whisper now as sleep willfully took him over, pulling him into the realm of dreams and nightmares all at once.

She could hear it, his head sliding sideways until it embedded itself into a corner of the ship, labored breathing becoming more soft, his tousled hair draping in front of his eyes like a curtain. Rey spared another glance, and for once he looked at peace within himself, less worried, less  _ alone _ . A sort of content rested upon his sleeping face, his hands tucked into his lap until the rest of his body followed suit into the corner, a slight arch in his spine.

Turning away and leaning her head back against the cockpit, Rey silently prepared for the worst when they returned.


	2. Forgiveness (Ben)

Ben was just a teenager still in his Jedi robes when he jumped into the pilot seat of the Falcon. He fumbled for a comm headset in the co-pilot’s seat, pulling it on while deft fingers flipped over various buttons and switches with hesitance, some more than once to gouge what exactly it was they  _ did.  _

His experimentation at least  _ worked _ . The falcon rumbled to life, lights flickering on one by one and illuminating the cockpit. Pushing the control handle back and forth, the ship shifted but otherwise did not take off, and for a moment Ben imagined it  _ actually _ being in the air, soaring through the skies of Naboo and through the galaxy, dreaming of being a great pilot like his father, akin to swinging around sticks in his early days and pretending he was a great Jedi like his uncle. 

“Hey, kid.”

Startled, Ben threw off the headset, hands clumsily and with haste flying over the switches and resetting them back to their original position at the firm voice of his father just over his shoulder, standing inside the cockpit, one arm raised and grasping the doorway, the other hand shoved into his pocket. 

“Don’t worry. I was a lot younger than you when I started flying.” Han chuckled, “And lucky for you, in a worse situation.”

He paused.

“Your mother’s waiting for you.” 

“I know.” Ben’s lips pressed together, slowly turning in the pilot’s seat for his guilt ridden expression to face the surprisingly lenient one of his father’s. 

Han had taken to feeling around the entrance of the cockpit, pressing on various spots to check the ship’s integrity. He smirked. “Yeah, I don’t care much for the meetings either. Listening to a bunch of hard-ass politicians isn’t the way I want to spend my morning. That’s just an old man’s opinion though, I guess.”

His smile was in equal measures as amused and affectionate, banging his fist against the side of the doorway. The metal groaned underneath the pressure, but its rigidity held up. “Now that you’re a big shot Jedi, think you might be ready to fly her?”

Ben’s eyes widened. Han, not waiting for an answer, instead slid into the co-pilot’s seat. Father and son began flipping and toggling switches as they prepared the ship for take-off, the Falcon’s engines hissing and roaring as it began to hover. It was half-way between crashing until the controls began to make sense, and with a grin--and a little assistance from his father--the Falcon soared out of the hangar bay, sailing through the early morning sunrise of Naboo, over the shining domes that glimmered in the faint light. 

The Falcon boomed upward towards the atmosphere, the look on Ben’s face one of pure joy as they ripped through the sky, maneuvering into a downward spiral and ripping upward with all of the strength that he could muster. Han let out an inaudible laugh from his side as they sailed over the waterfalls, and when Ben looked over, he laughed too.

It was home. Weakened memories of falling asleep to the sounds of his father’s stories, all of his numerous adventures of sailing across the galaxy and getting into the trouble that Ben was so adamantly known for. His mother’s gentle scolding and equal wisdom. His dreams had been simple then, those of a child ready to take on the world. A time when what he had wanted before hadn’t long since been clouded by Kylo Ren and The First Order. 

* * *

The lurching of the ship out of hyperspace stirred Ben from his sleep, wincing when the back of his skull collided with the interior wall. He’d barely had a moment to grasp his bearings, every muscle stiff and begging to be freed from their cramped confines, but his attempts to stretch had been fruitless from the limited space behind the pilot’s seat. Gripping it for stability, the ship careening unsteadily into the world’s atmosphere yanked away any drowsiness he had, attention turned forward at the rapidly passing scenery while the ship shuddered around them.

And he also heard Rey, casually talking to herself while she yanked at the controls. 

“Listen, I know he is--was--the supreme leader of the First Order that threatened our lives more times than I can count, but he’s  _ Ben _ now, not Kylo Ren. Oh, and I talked to Leia’s ghost and she convinced me to do this.”

Rey sighed in defeat and slumped back, the force sending the seat slamming into Ben’s legs and urging him to fold in tighter. “Yeah, that won’t sound crazy at all.” She mumbled to no one in particular, rubbing her eyes with her palms, resting a curled fist against her temple. 

She looked tired, Ben noted. Her hair was tangled and reeked of ash and whatever else made up the fumes of Exogol--the relentless motion of running her fingers through it doing little to straighten the mess and even  _ less _ to pinch her taut nerves. 

Swearing under her breath in an almost inaudible whisper, Ben resisted the urge to peer through the tether that kept them connected, if only to gouge how she was feeling--what she was thinking. Kylo Ren may have been privy to peering into the deepest and darkest parts of her mind, but Ben found himself hesitant about invading her personal thoughts. He’d  _ ask  _ her to tell him things, he’d say  _ please _ , he’d  _ wait _ , only because he wasn’t Kylo Ren, or at least he was damn determined not to be. 

The ship lurching brought both of their focus back, the automatic controls flashing warning symbols and demanding adjustments, shuddering as it careened unsteadily into the world’s atmosphere. Its rusted structure screeched, the outer shell groaned, and a variety of other sounds he was sure that he  _ shouldn’t  _ be hearing were all sounds he actually  _ heard.  _

His lightsaber tumbled from his hand, rolling underneath the seat before he could grasp for it. The deserted earth of Crait filled the viewport, a mess of dirt and rock that seemed to stretch on as far as the eye could see--full of nothing. No amount of gunfire or disturbances from the First Order and the Resistance alike seemed to change it. 

Rey had leaned down to fumble for the saber as it knocked into her ankle, her free hand flipping switches and tugging a helmet onto her head to request docking. Ben didn’t know if anyone was on the other line, hearing nothing but white static, but the chime of their approval came with the silence of the comms. Despite there being no physical answer, perhaps the abundance of docking Resistance ships left them confident against any hostiles that could possibly land.

_ Oh, if they only knew…  _

“Hey,” Rey addressed him, turning to extend the Skywalker saber to him, no hesitation in the gesture as she waved it directly in front of his face. “We’re almost there.”

At least the blade emitter was turned  _ away  _ from him. 

He retrieved it with a slow nod, the saber feeling at home in his hands. It belonged to his uncle, severed in half, reconstructed and serving him in the battle against Darth Sidious; it had certainly been through a journey all on its own. He’d called to it and without hesitation it had answered.

He turned it over in his hands. His thumb ran over the hilt, the activation lever, and the safety. 

It wasn’t his Crossguard--may it rest forever at the bottom of the ocean--hadn’t slaughtered innocent lives, threatened Rey and the Resistance at every turn, rather it had done only  _ good _ , only to  _ protect.  _

Kylo Ren was dead, but Ben Solo was still very much here. 

As Rey smiled, the back of his skull collided again with another hard jerk that questioned the ship’s stability. With a soft hiss, he rubbed the agitated area. He may have just glared at Rey, if he hadn’t noticed where they were. The resistance base, back at Rey’s home and likely also where his brief journey would come to an unsatisfying end--despite the many times it likely should have already.

Their ship tumbled towards Crait, puncturing the atmosphere and wracking the entirety of the rusted structure. The instability of the ship was made more prominent now, Rey gritting her teeth as she focused on correcting the diagnostics, the pressure slow to equalize. 

Finally, the vastness of space gave way to clouds, the ship groaning as warning signs flashed, the landing systems failing underneath of the X-Wing. The resistance base jutted into view, Rey voicing a warning he could scarcely hear through the adrenaline roaring in his ears while he clung to the seat, his nails digging into the material. Ship trembling, it sputtered as the landing base became visible through the cloud of dust, apparent by its scorched earth and solidly packed soil and… certain to make their landing much more difficult than originally anticipated.

X-Wing reluctant to slow, it dipped lower and lower, stone screeching against metal, rocks and debris banging against the underneath. Suddenly, he was very thankful for his companion’s skill as a pilot, the starfighter grounding without tumbling and inevitably tearing the base to shreds…

That would no doubt assist in smoothing things over with the resistance…

It landed mostly intact, albeit rendering the landing strip almost unrecognizable, the X-Wing’s engine falling silent, a chorus of popping and hissing took its place. Truthfully, it had been a miracle the ship had even brought them that far, but Ben didn’t hope for any salvagability. 

As the dust settled, Rey took a moment to catch her breath, and Ben pried his fingers from the seat, the cockpit’s cover rising and spilling sunlight and fresh air into the ship. She’d thrown the helmet from her head somewhere onto the ground below, turning to glance at Ben with a sheepish smile as if she hadn’t just nearly wrecked his uncle’s fighter and killed them both. 

“We’re here.” She announced.

Ben finally breathed, exhaling the air that had caught in his throat as he noted the state of his companion. Clothing filthy, covered in the evidence of their time at Exogol where he’d brought her back from the brink of death, the sunlight filtering through the open hatch and touching her soft brown hair--sticking up in all manners of directions and was covered with sediment. The tear stains on her face gave away the fact that she’d been crying. 

Ben’s first thought was that she was beautiful. A crazy thought, alarmingly hysterical and hitting him with the same show of force that he used to squeeze out of the cockpit and hit the ground with a slight stumble. Finally being able to stretch his legs despite his injuries earned a soft hum of content in turn and he stretched his arms skyward, ignoring the aching sensation in his ribs, his saber hanging on his belt. 

He pushed any intrusive thoughts out of his head for the time being.

From behind him, smoke poured from the ship’s engine as one single metal plate tumbled across the ground at his feet. “I’ll have to compliment your flying.” He remarked, turning to hold out his hand and assist her out of the cockpit. “I thought it’d crash and burn somewhere in Exogol. Never dreamt we’d make it this far.” 

Rey glared--playful--as she accepted the gesture and leaped to the ground at his side.

Ahead, the majority of the resistance still had yet to arrive, but they were coming, small splotches in the distance arriving in the dozens… The  _ hundreds.  _ Ben focused on his initial bearings, squinting against the light as he turned his gaze up toward the sky.

He felt an undeniable sense of calm, even with the anxiety that tugged the inside of his chest with the inevitability of having to face the resistance, enveloping itself into the pit at the bottom of his stomach. Their approval was already something he knew he would not have, and even with their hero’s gentle persuasion, he seriously doubted they could be swayed enough to allow him among their ranks. 

If the roles were reversed, he may have just felt the same way. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. A sense of dread filled him to his very core, hopelessness an ever prominent feeling burning a hole in his heart.

But at least he was facing it with Rey.  _ Together. _

Rey had turned her eyes skyward, the apprehension practically rolling off of her in waves. She watched the resistance fleet breaking through the atmosphere, faint pulsations of light arriving to whatever inevitable fate remained in store for them. 

All at once, she tore her gaze from the sky to focus on him instead. She held out her hand in such a familiar gesture--one that he had extended to her many times before--except now it was him taking it, a nervous tremble passing through his deft fingers by the second, seizing her hand into his own. 

_ Together. _

“No,” She replied smiling. Dry and a little wan, but nonetheless it was there. “But things are going to be okay. They have to be.”

* * *

“Are you  _ insane?!  _ Did you hit your head while you were down there in the caves? Did falling debris knock your common sense out of you?” Their initial confrontation had gone over smoothly to say the least. Poe hadn’t thrown as heavy a tantrum as was originally expected and because of that, Ben was able to restrain himself at Rey’s shoulder.

He hadn’t force choked anyone yet. Normally, it was Hux who proved to be notorious for getting on his nerves. Listening to Poe, he believed he’d found a close second.

That was an improvement on his part.

Their first few minutes had been spent waiting for the resistance ships to land. They had stood there, fingers intertwined, the bond that still felt like a foreign concept to him was tugging both demanding and content at the same time. It was familiar, and he grasped that familiarity as he stood in the unknown while they discussed his fate right in front of him.

It felt like lifetimes that Ben didn’t have. Each excited fighter had tumbled from their ships with cheers of celebration and countless announcements that they had  _ won.  _ They had finally  _ won.  _

And Ren had lost.

The disgust at his presence had been obvious, confused and incredulous faces staring at him with looks of contempt. Of disgust. All he had managed to do was remind himself of where his only comfort stood. That familiar touch, one so inviting and warm and one that preceded his caution--one that for the moment he hadn’t any intentions of letting go of.

Apprehension tugged at his heart, cautious in case the resistance leaders would react too harshly to his arrival. His fingers twitched at his side, but Rey’s reassurance passed through the thread between them, the light reaching through the darkness that was still an ever present part of his being, and it was enough to still his pounding heart. He met everyone’s judgmental gazes without batting an eye of his own.

“What?” Rey asked incredulously. “What,  _ no _ . I told you that I died, right? And then Ben-” A crowd of resistance fighters widened around them, giving them the space they would need to express the obvious issue at hand. Him. Some scrambled to seem busy, but he could feel their disturbed and curious minds working, expressing silent opinions on the matter, and each one was either condemning him to a life in exile or shooting him down right then. 

He couldn’t decide which one sounded more appealing. 

“I heard it.” Poe had interrupted. “And honestly, it just makes you sound crazier.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the space between them like a sharp stone. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?” Eyebrow raised, he faced her beside his co-general with a look of befuddlement, hands perched on his hips as he struggled to understand so simple a concept. 

Simple to Ben anyway.

Rey had died, and then she hadn’t and now they were both here except Ben wasn’t Kylo and Kylo wasn’t Ben. Of course that made sense. It just sounded more convincing  _ inside _ of his head. 

It was Finn who wedged himself between the pair, Rey’s irritation at having to continuously explain becoming more apparent as moments passed between the group. He held out his arms, palms facing upward as if to create some sort of makeshift barrier between two glares locked together in a heated show of dominance, neither backing down, neither admitting defeat. Rey had released his hand and stepped forward to further influence that.

In the end, rank had won and she turned to Finn as he took to his companion’s side, gaze turned on Rey as if voicing a silent plea that begged her to somehow for whatever reason be joking. “Alright, let’s all just stop and take a minute. This isn’t the place, and not really the time.” He reasoned, giving Ben a quick once over from where he stood just behind Rey’s shoulder, lowering his voice. “If he’s controlling you, just twitch or blink or something.”

Ben snorted. Rey had laughed, but not with any sort of genuine amusement, more so a disbelief that they would go so far as to even  _ suggest _ he had any sort of control over her. That it wasn’t the  _ other  _ way around. “How could he be controlling me, Finn?” She raised her eyebrows, bobbing her head as if attempting to pull out some sort of answer.

He didn’t take the bait. 

Poe worked a tick underneath a rigid jawline, shaking his head before turning his helpless gaze to Finn. “I don’t buy it.”

“We need to think about all of this.” Finn added on more gently. “Poe and I will talk about it, and then we’ll regroup.”

All individuals nodded in unison, Finn’s tense form relaxing all at once in some form of relief, however minute it seemed to be. 

Rey, although visibly irked by the situation, acknowledged Poe with her next request. “Permission to use the bacta tank,  _ general _ ?” There was a jab within the words as she acknowledged her friend, and by the subtle nod that hid a slight grimace, he had noticed it too.

“Yeah.” Poe exhaled a puff of air through his nose. “Yeah, we’ll talk later. After inspections.” He’d decided. As abruptly as it began, the conversation ended. Poe cast one glare Ben’s way and wandered off toward the bustle of chaos at their backs, shouting orders and melting into his general persona seamlessly as he directed the resistance members to different duties. Finn was the only one left remaining, shifting his weight from one foot to the next as if he had more to say. He didn’t, nodding dismissively to the two before he himself trailed after his co-general.

Then at last, Ben was finally acknowledged, Rey turning on her heels and maneuvering around him in the opposite direction. “Come on. Let’s get your injuries looked at.” She led him away from the clearing to the limestone cave that served as the main hub of the base. In the distance, smoke billowed into a large cloud mixing with the golden hue of the afternoon. The old X-Wing was burning, furthering his observation that it was beyond repair. Still, it had brought him home.

Even if he didn’t consider home a place.

Resistance forces scrambled by, backpacking extinguishing tanks and rushing along with stoic expressions despite the victory that they had seized only hours before. Their excitement had died down, the static in the air giving way to a heavy tension. Harsh words were exchanged, hushed whispers, but slowly they were finding their roles again. 

He didn’t remark at their gossip of how the coward Kylo Ren admitted his defeat and took up residency with the resistance fighters to preserve his own life. Hadn’t spoken a word of the fact that he was not in fact Kylo Ren, but Ben Solo. The son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, the pupil to Luke Skywalker, who in the past had all of the right intentions before he had been brutally stabbed in the back.

No, they wouldn’t remember that.

Seeing them in a light that didn’t shine on a battlefield brought a twinge of regret nonetheless, a tug of sadness over the fact that they had seemed so  _ normal _ , so  _ together _ , even after he had shot so many of them down.

Truthfully, he didn’t blame them for their hatred.

He was one being, but both at the same time.

The first order had never been in such unity. Everyone’s place had been determined at their initial arrival, and they would never be more than the pawns that Kylo Ren, Snoke, and Palpatine had made them to be. Eventually, Kylo Ren had been on top, and despite that, the values of the First Order had never changed. They never would. Not that it mattered now.

“I told you that they wouldn’t be happy to see me. They remember what Kylo Ren did; what I did.” He spoke through the mutual silence filled with words that Ben couldn’t find. Apologies rooted themselves in his heart, had attempted to flourish through his lips and to the resistance but it didn’t come. In a way, he had written it off as a genuine disconcert whereas the resistance was concerned. It had never been his life, and it was the cause of his parent’s disregard for him the majority of his childhood. The reason they had sent him away--more of a reason than being frightened of what he was capable of. 

Once they had maneuvered themselves into the med bay, Ben set himself down on one of the medical beds, wincing at a harsh jab in his ribs. With a sharp intake of breath, one arm laid across his abdomen, the other resting in his lap, his hand curled into a fist. Sleep had nulled the pain somewhat, but now that he was awake and moving it was being inconsiderate in how quickly it returned, something that ushered a genuine frown to his otherwise conflicted expression, half torn in between lost and concerned.

Concern for what sort of fate awaited him, whether he would be cast out the galaxy to be  _ alone. _ But Rey was home, a fact he had taken into consideration, and with that being his purpose, if being alone in the deepest parts of the galaxy to atone for what he’d done was a fate that awaited him, he would take it. Only if she could live the life she should have in the first place. Something more peaceful than what she had been given.

Rey walked down the various series of cots and the singular bacta tank before coming to a stop at his side. Privacy dividers offered little in the way of concealing much in the small corner room in the cavern, but it was at least  _ something. _ A droid rolled up to him with a series of whirring and beeps while it assessed him, but it was Rey who quickly became the subject of his attention when she finally answered his earlier sentiment. “I never expected them to be  _ happy _ ,” Rey murmured with a sense of hopelessness. “I guess… I just wanted them to listen at the very least. Maybe even accept what had come to pass.” She swallowed, breathing in to ground herself. 

Ben tried not to scoff at her belief. That the resistance would listen to something beyond their understanding. Nobody--aside from maybe one or two individuals--would ever believe Kylo Ren could be more than what the dark side made him out to be. The criticism wasn’t something that he would throw in her face, nodding instead, offering a meager: “Maybe” in conjunction with his gaze on the dividers as he attempted not to fidget.

The droid hummed as it assessed his condition and spun on its wheel to peer up at Rey, whistling inquiringly at her. She shook her head decisively. “I’m fine.” She dismissed it. 

It hummed a finality, chirping as it wheeled itself behind one of the dividers where it brought back a package of underclothes for the bacta tank. The tank itself hummed as it powered on, and without missing a beat, Ben took the clothes into his hands. With one quick look to Rey--who stood idly by watching him with a look of passiveness--he waited.

Once his eyebrows raised, she seemed to put the two together, a soft pink dusting her cheeks and running up her neck. It ushered a soft whistle from the droid, and she hissed a terse “I’m fine” underneath her breath as it made a dismissive gesture with a retractable arm. “Right, well I will grab you some new clothes and when you’re finished, I will be just out here.” Rey gestured to the privacy dividers and stepped out.

Behind Ben, the tank began its process of filling with the bacta fluid, beeping once it was full. 

Even through the divider, he could still feel as she did. Through their dyad, he could feel that anxiety, the jump in her pulse, the gentle irritation that released into an alarming sense of calm. That gentle presence kept him at ease. Enough to strip into… whatever it was the droid had given him. 

Removing his all black clothing, he changed into the other garments and sunk into the tank, laying back as the water enveloped him in its welcoming embrace, soothing his aching muscles, healing his wounds from the battle and washing away the dirt, the grime, the ash, and the blood _.  _ It almost brought him a bittersweet form of release, washing away any worries or anxieties that felt overbearing to him then.

Except it wasn’t enough. Laying there in the dark forced him to think, to focus on the events of the past few months. Hell, even all of his memories of Ben Solo that had been so easily shoved to the back of his head and blocked as the legacy of Kylo Ren took him over instead. Rey had been the one to bring those back, remind him of his identity, only because that loss was something he had felt in her too.

His thoughts were clouded, and feeling her own uncertainty in the situation didn’t grant him any sort of reprieve. But she tried, offering him a comfort that he desired, that he grabbed through their dyad and held close to his heart. It allowed him to breathe, to clear his mind and remind him that he was here and they were both  _ fine. _ Kylo Ren was not Ben Solo, and he would try, by the force he would try to not succumb to the same temptations as before.

It had been at least half an hour before Ben pulled himself from the tank again. Soaked and dripping water, dark locks clung to his face, the garments clinging to his well muscled frame as he retrieved the clothes that Rey had set out for him. It wasn’t black, but instead a standard issue of what the pilots and techs typically wore beneath their jumpsuits. An appalling green. He grimaced, but surely it would serve its purpose until he could acquire something more fitting.

Pulling them on, Ben walked out to Rey on the other side of the divider, finding her squatting there. Everyone was looking now as they passed by. Not just at him, but  _ both _ of them. No doubt she’d also likely be the subject of their malice for bringing him home. Not that anyone would dare voice a protest to the individual that had won them the war. The only question was  _ how.  _ The same question lingered inside every one of their minds, each one curious for answers Rey hadn’t given.

“I could help you explain to them when the time comes.” Ben offered. “I’m just not sure how reluctant they will be to hear what I have to say.” Only because he could feel their aggression, piling like one suffocating cloud through the emerald cave. It tugged him every which way, urging him to take a step closer to Rey. “That is unless the decision to exile me is final.”

Rey stirred at his approach, laying her eyes on him again. He felt a sense of comfort settle over her even if he hadn’t been away for that long. Something had changed between them, besides that tension that never seemed to leave, he didn’t feel that bottomless depth of anger and spite when he looked at her. That rage didn’t entrap him, lulled with regret. Too much of it.

Her cheeks once again flushed pink, and she quickly backtracked, taking his hand in her own and heaved herself to her feet. “They will need both of our official debriefings of the situation anyway.” She shrugged, reaching up to take a damp tendril of hair that had snaked its way across his forehead, and tucked it to frame his face instead. Eyes lingering on his now unmarred face. The crude scar had been a permanent memory of how Kylo Ren had earned it. Now that it was gone, it strangely lifted a weight from his shoulders. It hadn’t been meant for Ben anyway.

All at once, a sudden weight at Rey’s heels caused her to stumble forward, catching herself against him as BB-8 barrelled into her with a chorus of chirping and whistles. Rey let out a noise as equally excited while she righted herself, turning to kneel and affectionately acknowledge the droid by checking its antenna. “I am happy to see you too, BB-8! Oh, no.. N-No, Ben is okay.” She attempted to console the droid as it swiveled nervously back and forth with wary head turns his way.

BB-8 hummed once again which elicited a hesitant nod from Rey. The droid started off, its spherical body leading them onward down the winding hallways. “Looks like Poe wishes to see us already.” She extended her hand to him once again--a gesture that felt alarmingly natural, even in such a brief amount of time. “But no matter what they decide. Wherever you go, I will go.” She set her jaw with conviction, proving the sentiment wasn’t one to be argued with. 

Not arguing seemed like a good idea.


	3. The Verdict (Ben)

Ben stepped through the threshold of the judgment hall where the co-generals waited with their inevitable judgment. Poe was at the lead, arms crossed over his chest with his shoulders squared in a poor attempt to make himself appear a little taller. Had it not been for Ben’s current situation, he may have just laughed at their difference in height. Comical, he decided, but not something worth the risk to mention.

It wasn’t the almost foot that he held on him, rather the notion that Poe  _ knew  _ that Ben was a threat, and did whatever he could to appear to be the bigger man anyway. 

At his side, anxiety emanated from Rey, awaiting the final decision from who she had once referred to as her friends--family. Their relationship seemed strictly professional to him, but even he could sense the underlying care they so obviously held for her, one more painstakingly prominent than the other.

“We’ve had time to think about this.” Poe’s wary gaze flicked between the pair skeptically before settling on Ben. “But I can’t wrap my head around it. What the hell is going on, Rey? Why is he even here?” 

“I understand your apprehension to trust me-” Ben  _ tried _ , but Poe silenced him with a quick flourishing hand wave, dragging that intense stare over the female Jedi instead.

Ben refrained from force choking him right then.

“I know it’s not because of some sort of bullshit redemption attempt. I want to hear from Rey first,” Poe exclaimed coldly. “Not _ you _ .”

BB-8 whistled low from his place at the general’s left, breaking the tension in the room in half. Their sides had been made abundantly clear, and Ben and Rey could not have been more secluded from the rest if they tried. 

Rey composed herself, and went on to once _ again _ explain everything. The day that she faced Darth Sidious--though noticeably remained silent about the truth to her lineage--her intentions of going into exile just as his uncle had done, arriving to Exogol and standing with Ben in the final battle, him choosing the light side over the dark, the in-between and the promise that she had made to Leia. All of it with only one miniscule detail held barred. “It isn’t  _ bullshit. _ ” She pressed. “Leia gave her life to save Ben. You knew her, and it is not a decision she would have made if she didn’t believe that he was beyond redemption!”

Finn bristled, standing as equally defensive and matching Poe almost identically. He wanted to speak, Ben knew. To join in the protests that the previous leader of the First Order should simply be discarded. 

“There is a reason that we both returned from Exogol alive when neither of us should be.” Rey finished, meeting their hardened expressions unflinching. 

Finn was the one that broke the uneasy silence between the four of them first, tossing Ben an appraising look, judging in nature but not entirely disapproving. Not for his own benefit Ben assumed. “If he wanted us dead, we’d be dead.” And he was right in every form of the phrase. After taking a dip in the tank, he held the upper hand on them physically, both generals still not fully recovered from the previous battle. 

Despite their celebrations, grief still hung heavy over the resistance.

Poe stood idle, piecing it together, but the mention of Leia was enough to snatch his attention back to the debate. All heads turned--Ben’s included. Rey’s mention of her demise, her sacrifice for her son. He left a mental note to ask her about the conversation later.

“You did.” Poe yielded, features pinched into a scowl. His head shook, a tick working itself underneath a rigid jawline. “You’re both here, but it’s a risk. The resistance isn’t happy with it, and we can’t let him stay with the assurance that they can just forget about it. You know what he’s done and I’m glad that you can offer him forgiveness, Rey, but the rest of us aren’t ready.” 

Rey deflated, but he wasn’t finished. 

“And that’s final. I just see a coward who killed billions trying to surrender because he finally lost. There is no sort of  _ atonement _ for that.”

“I understand your conviction.” Ben stood idly by no longer, taking a step forward, holding out his arms to his sides, palms up to further prove that he was no threat to them. Besides, his capabilities far exceeded their own, and he wouldn’t put it past them to think that he could wipe out everyone with a mere flick of his wrist. Only because he could. By their rigid stances, that seemed to be what they were waiting for _. _ “I understand that you can’t forgive what Kylo…” He paused, correcting himself. “What  _ I  _ did.”

Looking over his shoulder to Rey, he decided then whether his next course of action was the correct one to take.

He took a deep breath.

“Rey and I defeated Palpatine  _ together.  _ While a part of me will always hold a piece of him, I am Ben Solo, the son of Leia Organa of Alderaan, and Han Solo of the rebellion.”

“ _ You _ tortured me.” Poe spat. “You nearly killed Finn, murdered your own father when he was trying to help you. No good man is capable of committing the atrocities that you did. Nobody in the resistance will stand for it!”

“Kylo Ren is dead.” Ben went on despite the hostility, squirming underneath a locked jaw. He felt himself shaking, itching to succumb to that voice in the back of his mind that  _ knew  _ how to get them to listen, to gain their respect out of fear, but he didn’t. “I was brought back to the light by my mother, and by Rey. And you’re right. I have to answer for what Kylo Ren did. All of the grief caused by the First Order.” 

“And is that why you’re here? You come crawling back with your alter ego asking for ways to apologize?” Poe challenged, stepping forward with a fiery purpose. 

“No,” Ben’s tone dropped an octave, dripping with contempt. “I came back for Rey. If you want to hand me over to the Republic Courts or exile me to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, then I’ll accept it.” 

“This man--this republic scum--” Poe started.

“Doesn’t belong here.” Ben finished for him--eyes filled with a suppressed sense of regret and sadness at the ultimate truth. “I know, but I’m not asking for forgiveness. Kylo Ren was beyond that redemption. I like to think that Ben Solo was more misguided, cast out and manipulated by Snoke, but ultimately that is not up to me to decide. You can accept me as Ben Solo, or punish me as Kylo Ren. My purpose was to see Rey home and I’ve done it.” He then turned to face the generals one last time, offering a small helpless shrug, a small quirk reminiscent of his father. 

He was calm, although the tension in his muscles betrayed any notion that he was fully relaxed. “I didn’t come back for you--for the resistance, but if you believe me to be an asset then I will offer whatever I can.”

“We can use him.” Finn interjected suddenly, even if it hurt to admit that Ben could be useful for anything that wasn’t purely to cause grief. He couldn’t have meant that, not unless he was doing Rey a favor guided by some buried infatuation. Finn was, but everyone’s nerves were strung, taught over this situation alone, let alone the preparations of what they were going to do  _ next. _

Everyone settled to listen and Finn stepped forward once he had the floor, again ready to deescalate the situation. “We lost a lot of people,” He offered a gentle prodding reminder to the other general. “We will need all the help we can get to eventually relocate to Ajan Kloss. With the right precautions… maybe he can be useful.” There was a shift of energy in the room, almost lulling and overcome with a sense of calm.

Ben and Poe had stood almost nose to nose during the exchange—If Poe’s difference in height to Ben wasn’t so drastic. Poe shifted in his defensive stance, brows pinched together and glaring at Ben with a look of complete and utter disgust. The words did very little to sway the general, but despite Ben’s lame attempt at convincing him, he stood equally as rigid, his hands at his sides and his fingers scratching against his palm, resisting the urge to lash out, to delve back into the dark place only Kylo Ren would go. 

Ben’s calm composure was carrying him far, but how long would that last? Only Rey’s protest and Finn’s abrupt input turned both of their heads sideways—at first they still didn’t back off, even with Ben reaching instinctively behind him for Rey’s hand. There was a hesitant lilt in Finn’s words, the unsureness that Ben could be useful for anything that wasn’t fighting a war. He noticed it, but let him speak, a twinge of hope digging into his chest, unfortunately followed by a pricking sensation of guilt as his hand wrapped around his companion’s once again finding its home there. She accepted it without a second thought.

He felt a sudden guilt for his constant chastising that he would leave her behind—after all she had done to get him to  _ stay _ . 

“By the force…” Poe scoffed. “What do you mean we can use him? There’s plenty of people around the galaxy that we can use and you want to  _ use _ Kylo Ren?” 

Ben grimaced.

“You know what, you’re right.” Poe said suddenly, nodding in acknowledgement and... a sudden smile with a dip in his head that suddenly bled acceptance. “We lost a lot of people. We will need all the help we can get to eventually relocate the base to Ajan Kloss.” Poe reiterated Finn’s words. “With the right precautions, he  _ will _ be useful. Good thinking, Finn.” 

Ben looked to Rey skeptically, a slight arch in his brow, asking a silent question only the two of them would understand.  She didn't seem to care, at least not at that moment, too invested in the notion that he would be allowed to stay.

“Right.” Finn seemingly hadn’t noticed, beaming faintly with a sense of pride and tilting his head up a little higher.

“I mean there will be restrictions of course. Monitored comms, no weapons, eyes on him at all times. And if he so much as steps out of line--” He didn’t need to finish the threat, an encouraging beep from BB-8 finishing the threat for him. “So we’re settled then.” Poe agreed to his own conditions, his face twisting into one of confusion, as if genuinely curious of his own change of mind. “Anyway... I think we can call that dismissed. I want a report every hour to two hours.” Casting one quick quizzical look over his shoulder, and with a befuddled shake of his head, he squeezed past them then was gone. 

Ben on the other hand couldn’t find it in him to be content with the terms as the two were left alone and BB-8 rolled over his foot to catch up with the others. A prisoner, and no more part of the resistance than he was as a child growing older. He was cast out, before then and even now. 

Some things never changed. 

“I guess you will have to keep my saber safe for me.” Ben chided, making a mock attempt at some sort of humor. “I didn’t have it for very long. I think I was just getting used to it.” 

Perhaps it was at least better than being cast out to he knew not where. At least, not again.  _ Alone _ . And once again, he was left with the realization that at least Rey was there, with him. At his side and going  _ nowhere _ . The force tether connected them, wove around them until he felt himself moving closer—but that was purely a decision of his own. 

“Thank you!” Rey called after Poe, the excitement emanating from her undeniable. Finn was the one to stop albeit briefly, casting one look over his shoulder and mouthing something to Rey that Ben was sure was no more than a simple “You’re welcome” and with a gentle smirk he followed Poe through the threshold.

“It will always be yours. I will just hold onto it for  _ when _ you can have it again.” Her fingertips nimbly unfastened the saber from his belt, placing it on her own with its partner. The next string of words came out more soft, and sheepish. “You wouldn’t have to leave me if it came down to it. I meant what I said before.”

With that, she turned on her heel and left the office. “Come on, I’ll see if I can get us some food in my quarters.” 

They left the halls within the Tantive IV. The sun cast a final golden hue across the clear skies, orange and yellow cascading over the horizon. The light barely illuminated the inside of the cave, the majority coming from bulbs of machinery whirring inside.

Ben’s fingers subconsciously grasped for his weapon as they neared the others, but he certainly wouldn’t rely on having it if it came down to it. Rey was the only person he trusted to keep it safe--only because she had promised, and it’d become clear in their time spent sharing visions and disputing over wishes of the future that she had never broken a single one. 

_ You’re not alone. _

_ Neither are you. _

And those words still rang true, stronger than ever. Even still, as the pair walked through the base, Ben found his steps wavering a few behind, his eyes boring into the back of Rey’s head. Through their force bond--their dyad, he could see the darkness in her heritage waiting in the very depths of her soul for just the right moment to strike. A subtle darkness that was peeling away one small layer at a time.

Nonetheless, it was blinded by the light that seemed to so easily follow her around, one that he constantly sought out for the warmth and comfort he was otherwise deprived of. Briefly he wondered if there would ever be an instance that would finally bring that darkness forth. Because of that, Ben wouldn’t leave her alone. 

They maneuvered past the mouth of the cave where the resistance members crowded outside by a fire. The smell of food being turned over a fire wafted toward them and making his stomach churn. Inside was more quiet, a few stragglers hurrying toward the thought of devouring a meal. It smelled vastly different from what Ben remembered from his meals with the First Order, almost  _ raw _ , but his growling stomach prodded him eagerly, and he realized there was no room to be picky. Not here.

Rey didn’t stop to partake. Instead, she continued on to a secluded area on the other side of the base. Obediently his steps were in tow with her own. She would send for it, he assumed.

Once inside Rey’s quarters, his eyes took in the blandness of the room. It was small, he noted. With how many members there were in the base, it was no surprise that they had to consolidate in order to make room for enough beds. He had to rotate carefully in order not to bump into anything, and being as large as he had to step carefully to avoid knocking anything over. 

Ben refrained from asking how she could sleep in such a cramped space. Instead, he carefully lowered himself down onto the floor, and pulled his knees to his chest mimicking how he managed to squeeze into the X-Wing several hours prior.

No, he wouldn’t take her bed from her, unless he himself were to squeeze into it to make room for them both--something he wouldn’t take the first step to try. His room had been pristine, spacious, made up of sharp corners and polished surfaces, and the size of their rooms in comparison was comical but he offered himself a gentle prodding reminder that was Kylo Ren’s life. 

Ben Solo’s life was here with the resistance--more importantly Rey--squeezing into the room of her quarters and being scowled at by First Order despisers. Barely cooked food, tacky clothes and all. 

Ignoring the nagging sensation in his stomach, he began the conversation with something else--a gentle tugging curiosity since she had mentioned it to the generals.

Images that she’d shoved into his mind’s eye that he’d been working tirelessly to remember, to hold onto and absorb. Only because it had been a long time since he had actually  _ seen _ her. Well, since she had whispered his name into the force and passed on. “You talked to my m-” His chest heaved. “General Organa? In the in-between?” And only then did he look up at her from his spot on the smooth stone, equal parts sorrowful as remorseful. “What did she say?”

At his inquiry, a small curse escaped her when she knocked aside some pointless trinkets, unequipping both lightsabers and gingerly placing them aside with much more care. They were near to them and within reach, much like everything else.

Their knees grazed one another — his legs folded once more to compact his lanky frame. He looked so out of place; even dressed in color and void of weapons, he still seized an air of intimidation around him that left the others unsettled. 

“I did,” Rey confirmed, her eyes crawling across his form. “She told me to not give up on you, that there was still a light in Ben Solo. I can show you... if you want.” 

Ben stretched his legs out, still slightly bent at an angle but he could rest his hands in his lap comfortably. His mother hadn't given up on him--a thought that stuck in his mind for what that was worth now. She had believed him to be of redemption, that there was a reason that he could be saved. He kept a hold of that thought, placed it in the darkness that clouded his heart and reminded himself that perhaps there was a reason that neither of them had died on Exogol. 

If Leia knew then surely it was meant to be. Granted, Han had also thought that Kylo Ren could be redeemed, and that was before he had a lightsaber driven through the chest and been thrown into a darkened abyss. That thought was shoved to the back of his mind, the reminder an ever growing pain that sowed doubt into what he already knew to be true. Kylo Ren had killed his father, but Ben had been a willing participant in the backseat of his mind, knowing what he had done, and until recently held no regret.

Ben turned slightly so that he could face Rey, his hand trembling as he held it out to her, warming up to her invitation to see. He seemed almost a little too eager, as if wanting to hear the words that he was worth something come from his mother himself. Palm up, he hesitated as his hand lingered closer and closer to her own before finally making a connection. 

Willing himself through the force, connecting to her through the thread that kept their destinies woven together, he willed the images to him, the memory. In that memory, he saw his mother. Her face relaxed and akin to something of peace. Even if translucent he felt as though he could see her smile clearly. 

The words reverberated in his mind, echoing as he closed his eyes in order to  _ feel _ it. Feel Leia’s touch through Rey’s hand, the promise that she had made in not giving up on him. He felt the warmth, the light and life. Something akin to happiness that he hadn't felt in a long time, of  _ relief _ emanating from his companion as she made the promise.  _ Don't give up on him Rey. _ And she hadn't.

Tears threatened to overflow in his eyes, but he forced them back. Refused to let her see them, his stomach twisted and his heart ached. There was still hope for Ben Solo. There was  _ something _ that he could do. 

"Hey, you guys?" 

Both immediately yanked away from each other at the sudden intrusion, equally startled. Turning his head away, he coughed and cleared his throat, not realizing how tightly his free hand had clenched in his lap until he relaxed.

"I'm coming in, okay? Please don't be doing anything weird." Rose appeared through the makeshift curtain after a moment of pause, two trays of food in hand stacked high. Rey stood to assist her, stumbling over Ben but managed to find her feet enough to take some of the burden. Both trays were set down with a loud  _ smack _ as Rose flexed her wrist. 

“Rose! It’s good to see you.” Rey greeted her. “Th-Thank you. For, well, all of  _ this. _ ” She gestured vaguely to the food, a slight heat to her cheeks, rubbing her palms against her grimy leggings.

"I wasn't sure what to get the two of you, so I just got all of it." Rose grinned. "I don't know what kind of food Ky... I mean, Ben ate in the First Order, but I mean take what you can get." It was a lame attempt at a joke, to make Ben more comfortable even if he were not looking at them and instead struggling to process what he had seen. Not so much the reality of it, but the fact after everything, his mother still had an unwavering faith in him. Enough to keep Rey alive, to keep him alive.

How could he ever thank her for that? 

"Anyway," Rose went on, pulling him back to his current reality. "I also have some spare blankets sitting outside here. There's no room for a cot so..." She trailed off, eyes cast out across nowhere in particular. "It should be better than nothing. Poe needs to see you first thing in the morning Rey for a briefing. They're wanting to move base again. Go figure, but the resistance is apparently doing a lot more now that everything is said and done. Poe is wanting to go and meet with other resistance groups, take care of some First Order sympathizers which by the way we're not to mention the K name just in case..." The woman continued babbling on, speaking directly to Rey now as opposed to Ben, but at least she was not looking at him with pure scorn. Pure hate. Just an innocent curiosity, and a knowing look as Ben sat there catching his breath.

“Poe’s taking the initiative in all of this, I see.” Rey shifted her weight from one foot to the next, wringing her hands. A silence befell the three of them. 

A few moments of silence passed between the trio.

“So-” She started at the same time as Rose, both girls laughing in unison before pressing on. “See Poe in the morning, no using the K name, extra blankets outside, I think I’ve got it.”

Rose nodded. "Right. Don't forget, because then he'll yell at me if you don't remember." She hovered for a few more moments, a wide smile fixed on Rey before her eyes darted over to Ben still sitting hunched over on the floor--downright accusatory in nature. "Cool. Well, enjoy. I'll see you guys later. Bye, Ben." She waved before dipping out through the curtain. Ben could only offer a curt nod, one wary smile that didn't quite reach his expression before disappearing immediately upon her exit. 

Once she was gone, Ben exhaled. They were left there once again together, in the quiet of her very cramped space. There was someone else standing outside, their presence very much known despite the ability to hear a pin drop on the cave floor. His hands gripped at the fabric of his pants tight until his knuckles turned white. His breathing took a considerable amount of time to steady, the pounding of his heart roaring in his ears as he struggled to calm down. A fit of anger rose up in his chest, but he fought it back, willed it to go away. 

With a painful throb in his chest, it did.

"You should go get cleaned up." He said at last, one hand bracing against the cot to stand and retrieve one of the plates of food. It was somewhat heavy, and he had to balance it in order to keep all of the food on its surface, but none of it looked very appetizing either. Still, his nagging hunger fought through his picky appetite, and without hesitation he plopped down on the edge of her cot again and dug in. A slow chewing to use the taste to distract from the visions they’d shared.

He felt everything that Rey had at that moment. The hope, the happiness, the warmth and it mixed with his own. Sadness, regret, remorse until it blended and suffocated him. He didn't know what he felt; what was his and what was Rey's, but it was overwhelming. For the moment, he couldn't directly speak, couldn't offer any words of what exactly he may have been feeling. 

Only because he didn't know what to offer her that could accurately explain. Gratefulness? Sorrow? All of the apologies and thanks that he wanted to give her? The promises made that Rey wouldn't so easily just give up on the legacy that was Kylo Ren turned Ben Solo? All it meant that in his parent's eyes he had been worth something, he had deserved a second chance and through his mother's touch he felt that sincerity. 

The resistance was giving him that to an extent, Rey had always held that out to him, but the fact that he was a prisoner still didn't settle well in his chest. A part of him wanted to atone, the other wasn't so sure Kylo Ren deserved that even if Ben Solo might have by a small sliver of chance being just a lost child that had felt betrayed by those closest to him. Taking control of the Dyad and seizing whatever destiny lay before them. His mother's image ever so clear in his mind, it willed his grief forward, and he furiously blinked them away, one hand wiping across his eyes.

Ben found himself... angry. 

Angry that he had allowed Kylo Ren to take a hold of him, allowed the dark side to so easily manipulate him--and Snoke. He'd spoken with his dad on the cliff. He'd taken his place at Rey's side and fought Palpatine. It was a chance at redemption, and now being  _ alive _ and somewhere else, he was faced with the trouble of allowing himself to try, willing everyone else to _ trust _ him enough to try. It was overwhelming, the balls of his fists digging into his eyes as his plate of food sat in his lap, for the most part consumed. What was he meant to do? What did Leia want for him? "I'll be here when you get back." He assured her, his tone carrying a heavy lilt that it often did when he was upset.

Rey withdrew, averted her gaze away from him and nodded. 

“I won’t be long,” she assured him, retrieving an outfit from within a storage chest that had been used as a makeshift table. “If you need anything, I’m sure you can just yell and  _ everyone _ will come running,” her voice rose to stretch to whoever had been stationed outside. There had been an uncomfortable shift that came in response that made Rey roll her eyes.

* * *

Her sandaled feet plodding across the stone announced her approach. She pulled back the curtain before slipping inside, squinting through the lack of light that had settled in the cave by then, the artificial rays barely sweeping through the curtain and the lamp dimming itself in the corner. “Sorry, I ran into someone. I would have been back sooner, but they never cease to be anything but a conversationalist.” 

Ben had finished his meal by the time she had returned, discarding the plate to the floor—and carefully out of the way so as to not get broken by unsteady feet. He nodded stiffly in greeting to Rey, having taken the time she was gone to compose himself before her return. Remaining perched on the cot, he slid several inches over so that she could sit and eat as well.

Within two steps, she had collapsed onto her cot, rattling the dishes of her dinner that she eagerly pulled into her lap. If Ben had been a picky eater, spoiled by his time spent in the ranks of the First Order, Rey was a ravenous savage that would sooner lick a bowl clean than waste a crumb. 

Rey ate like she was trying to get it over with and with no intentions of sharing. The piece of bread she was eating had to be strangled before she could ingest it but surprisingly managed to keep her Jedi robes clean. He dismissed that sight for now, turning his head away.

“Are you alright?” Her fingers worked at the meat of an animal, picking it apart off the bone, her eyes downcast and focused on the task at hand, splitting it apart.

“I-“ Ben shook his head, finally acknowledging the truth. “I don’t know.” Truthfully, he didn’t. “I’ve been thinking about what Leia said to you. That I was supposed to join my family in death. I guess I’m just wondering what would have happened if I had.” Except that wasn’t the full truth. Ben’s gaze was downcast, his hands sitting in his lap, hair draped in front of his face like a curtain and hiding his uncertainty. 

“Everything I set out to do was done. I didn’t come back to atone for the resistance. I came back because you asked me to. I probably should have died back in the caves.” Except that wasn’t it. He was spared for a reason, something destiny believed was left undone. It most certainly wasn’t doing Ben Solo any favors. If it was, it could have at least make people see that Kylo Ren was really dead, that Ben could somehow make up or at least do better than all the damage his alter ego had wrought previously. 

Destiny had a sick sense of humor sometimes.

His voice was barely above a whisper, gaze fixed on his fingers as he wrung them endlessly. “I’m not Kylo Ren of the first order, I’m not a member of the resistance, I killed the Skywalker bloodline. Leia gave up her life to pull me back, and I refuse to believe it was only because I am her son...  _ was _ her son.” 

Only then did he finally lift his head to look at her through her ravenous eating, and it baffled him how someone so small could eat... so quickly and so much. Still, she was slick from her shower, her hair soft and washed and still drenching, wearing fresh clothes and looking as if fighting the way they had that day hadn’t happened at all. Her refreshed form sat relatively close to his on the cot, so close that they were brushing, but their hands still to themselves. Rey was beautiful. In his eyes, she always had been since he noticed their similarities when first coming face to face--that fear and loneliness and loss.

“I guess I just wish I knew what to do next.”

“I think--” She started, placing the trey down and halting her ritual of scarfing down anything and everything she could manage long enough to listen to Ben speak. “I think she wanted you to have the life you were supposed to have. As Ben.” Her lashes lowered as she took in his open display of vulnerability painted so cautiously across usually stoic features.

Exhaustion dug deeper into his limbs, his emotions hitting him all at once. It’d been an emotionally draining day as it was, and although he slipped into an almost comfortable state in the Bafta tank, nothing could beat actual rest, even if his would be a restless night on the floor of the cave. It wouldn’t match his quarters on the first order by any means, not even slightly in the ways of comfort, but her comforting presence would be much closer as opposed to reaching out through the force to  _ feel _ her and lull into sleep, she was right there.

“Being alive in itself is a purpose. Living in peace, finding happiness is a purpose,” she tried to reassure him. 

_...To have the life you were supposed to have, as Ben. _ Ben Solo seemed like an entity that he hadn't yet figured out. Only aside from the obvious truth of his lineage, the emotions he was feeling that he had snuffed out as Kylo Ren, his thoughts, his hopes and his dreams all felt like ones belonging to a stranger. 

Someone wanting more than to see the norm of the galaxy wiped out and started fresh, someone with a renewed hope for the future than destruction seeking Ren would ever have. Something that finally didn't equate to revenge, something spurred by not hate, but stronger. A new feeling he had refused to acknowledge, only because that feeling thrummed around someone from the enemy side. 

Rey's head coming to rest against his shoulder brought his attention back, except he didn't move so as not to disturb her, looking down at their hands instead. Their fingers intertwined and came to a rest on her lap. He had to slouch to accommodate their height difference, but the fears plaguing his mind were snuffed out in an instant. 

The warmth and light that Rey emanated so easily passed through the thread tethering them together and soothed his anxiety. And he listened. Listened to her talk of waiting, being alive, living and finding a happy existence somewhere in the galaxy. She was so...  _ good _ . Always speaking from the heart, and through their connection he knew she meant every word. 

Her journey to happiness, even on an alternate path was a reminisce of the endless wait for her parents, whom the truth of he had thrown right in her face before she'd come to discover their deaths. No doubt that had affected her in some way, similarly to how the deaths of his parents were hitting him now. Coming to terms with the fact that they were really gone, even if he'd managed to find peace with both--and the pride on his father's face when he threw his cross saber into the ocean was one he held tightly in his mind’s eye.

“Your blankets are outside the door—“ Rey said drowsily, a deepness in her tone while she parted from him and righted herself. Sitting up to rub the sleep from her heavy eyes, the gesture was followed by a yawn. She moved to kick off her sandals and press herself as small as she could against the furthest wall of her cot, leaving a sliver of space for Ben beside her.

Rising stiffly, wincing as he stretched out from the awkward position, he nodded in acknowledgement and stepped around her to retrieve the blankets from outside the room. Notably there was someone else there this time, likely rotating shifts, he thought with a grimace. 

The new guard shifted uncomfortably as their gazes met, but he wasted no time in retrieving the blankets and moving back inside. The space left on the cot was what captured his attention first, but it was a silent invitation he hadn't any intentions of taking; not now. 

Ben took a place on the floor, draping the cover over himself and recoiling as the cold stone pressed against his back. Above him, the cot squeaked and groaned as Rey shifted back, seeing her outline through the dark, turned with her back to him.

Suddenly he missed his bed back in the first order, a bed much larger with a comfortable mat and long enough that he could stretch out his legs comfortably. The darkness enveloped them as the lights outside dimmed one by one, drowning out any chance of being able to see her. 

"Goodnight, Rey." Ben murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as the small room became nothing more than a blur. It wasn’t home, but at that moment it was. A place so foreign to him simultaneously felt like a paradise.

“Goodnight, Ben.” She whispered in return.

If only by the company that slept a few inches away was enough of a definition.

  
If he had to place a definition of what a  _ home  _ was, this may as well have been it.


	4. Separation (Rey)

It was unfortunate that home sometimes consisted of the stark reality that Rey had willingly brought back an enemy of the Resistance with the illusion that everything would be merry and they would welcome him in with open arms after they finished polishing their blasters and flashing their torchlights. A fool’s thought really, and a reality that nothing good would ever last where she was concerned. Simple logic; cold, cruel, but always reliable. 

The contents of her room slowly blurred into focus. 

_ I want a report every one to two hours. _

“ _ Oh, no _ .” She whispered, sitting up in such a fit of panic that she’d nearly toppled off of her cot onto Ben who was adjusting to the dim light as he stirred. Her fingers reached overhead to punch at the buttons of the holoprojector until it was ringing for Poe. 

In truth, he likely should not have been the first thought imprinted into her mind so early in the morning, rather focused on the other individual that she had shared a space with for the night and who until then she had completely forgotten about. It seemed her mind had a funny sense of humor, all things considered.

The ringing persisted, until it became clear that Poe was not going to answer.

Rey was still rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes when an intrusion shook Ben awake, catching him outside of her peripherals stiffening, frozen as though hearing something that she didn’t. She almost asked, reached out through the force to gently reassure him--hold him, ground him--let him know that he was safe. He blocked her out, put up his walls, and guarded himself against her reassurance. He was immediately on the defensive before she could speak, bristling with panic and scrambling to his feet. 

Then suddenly, she could hear it. The footsteps--urgent and with purpose. Her fear of Poe’s silence was replaced instantaneously with a renewed kind of fear; a disorientation that braced her for some sort of attack. The saber from her bedside flew from its resting place into Ben’s hand in an instant, but there was no time to reassure him. His panicked whisper of her name drowned out, the current confrontation coming in the form of Finn being a mediator to the news that Poe had intended to deliver. Several other resistance members in tow emerged through the curtain--all stern, eyes drawn and glaring daggers. 

Seeing as he was armed, two of the resistance fighters stood just as equally on the defensive as their new prisoner, blasters trained on him, shifting restlessly, their fingers itching on the triggers.

“You said that I could stay here.” Ben held one hand outstretched to her, the other gripping the saber in a white knuckled grip. Any hint of drowsiness was absent from his suddenly cold and calculated demeanor, backed into the farthest corner of her room like a caged animal prepared to pounce.

It twisted her heart and simultaneously crushed it. 

Poe was unfazed by the display of hostility from Ben, Finn being the only person in the room besides herself treating the situation as it was. That Ben was scared even if he would deny so for the rest of his life. That he wouldn’t hurt any of them if they gave him a choice. Rey liked to believe that it was because of Finn’s previous occupation as a StormTrooper, or his unwavering faith in Rey despite his obvious doubt of her seemingly clouded judgment. It wasn’t either, but he remained at least somewhat neutral if only because of her obvious care for their previous enemy.

“We just came to take you to your new quarters that we had arranged.” His tone carried a more lighthearted and calm lilt, strongly contrasting with his co-general who was ever more eager to put Kylo Ren’s head on a stick. “In exchange for letting you stay with the resistance, we have to make sure that our own people are safe first.” 

“And… uh,” Finn added on more tentatively. “We’re going to need you to hand  _ that _ over.” Motioning vaguely to the saber, he extended a hand, palm up. 

“We’re not letting you carry it around here in case you get the bright idea to stab someone in the back.” Poe iterated. She had no doubt it was the unspoken opinion of what they had  _ all _ been thinking--the Resistance.

Rey could see it. She could feel it through their Dyad however limited their connection was at that moment. Ben’s mind was trained on the obvious notion that they were a threat, having dismissed himself as far back in the room as he possibly could, body poised for battle even if it wouldn’t come to that. Even if it  _ couldn’t. _ His mind was running miles, running his body cold. He was reaching through the force, the walls trembling, subtle but it was there. 

They intended to put Ben in a cell. She didn’t have to peek into their minds to see it. Multiple times, she attempted to interject, to argue, but was shut down.

“No,” Ben said quickly. Lightsaber ready at his side, he jerked back from them when Finn advanced. His voice maintained a tone of empathy, of  _ control _ , but the tremor betrayed any show of confidence completely. At least to Rey, he’d never been able to hide his thoughts, his mannerisms, and his expressions without betraying any inward thought completely. The mask had been his only shelter, but without that or his rage to hide him, he was left completely vulnerable to the people he so obviously didn’t trust.

And he hated it, she knew.

By the force, he  _ hated  _ it.

“If I  _ wanted _ to kill you, I’d have done it already.” Impatience spit out every word. “I could drop the entire cave on your heads. I don’t need my lightsaber to do that.” Both of his hands dropped abruptly to his side, palms facing outward as some show of truce. Except, he was reading their intentions, adrenaline and cloudiness causing him to shake. 

“We know that you could.” Finn said more carefully, holding out one hand of his own, taking one careful  _ agonizingly  _ careful step that caused Ben to recoil back, but he was running out of space. His back brushed against the farthest wall, and Rey could have sworn she felt the floor shift.

“This is for the ease of the resistance Ben.” Finn went on to assure him, retaining a surprising sense of calm despite the anxiety emanating off of the others surrounding him. “They’re not going to feel safe if we let the previous supreme leader walk around armed.” 

Poe’s impatience overlapped any other uneasy feelings, squaring his shoulders to appear taller, his hands moving to place on his hips instead, one hand still outstretched for the weapon even if Finn’s warning glare warded him against it. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

Everyone’s fingers twitched at their weapons, the previous cool morning air gave way to a suffocating heat along with the rising tension--as if it could get any higher. Rey swam through the thickness of it, feeling the tremble of the force as Ben seized its power for himself. 

Poe motioned behind him for his fighters to stand down, and with one doubtful exchange of glances, they only  _ reluctantly  _ did.

Poe surrendered, his blaster being inserted in its holster at his belt. “We don’t want to hurt anyone, but we need you to comply with our orders now. If you’re wanting to stay on the ship with Rey.” 

Rey glowered at the unfairness of it all throwing the force user in his own face, but for the moment Poe was grasping for the high ground, searching for some sort of edge to hold over him. She was the only connection he had to the resistance, and that seemed like the best bargaining chip to get him to comply. Even if she was silently urging him to walk out of there. Not to stay as a prisoner for her sake. 

She wasn’t a pawn, a thing to just torment him with. Her softness towards the former Supreme Leader was common knowledge, and it simultaneously proved to be their undoing, but hearing her friends wield it like a weapon hit her with a dread that did not so easily waver.

Ben scoffed, anger boiling just below the surface of his defensive demeanor. His fingers twitched, curling into a fist.

Yesterday, the pilot would have been dead by now Rey knew, feeling the tingle of the force at his fingers, the gentle pull that was bending the metal of the ship. It would have been so simple for Ben to choke him--no one would have time to react if they were not expecting it. He made no attempt to straighten up to counter Poe’s show of dominance, instead bending his head to look into his eyes, as if reminding him that  _ he  _ was still looking down on  _ him.  _

He smiled an unsteady smile, and peering through the force she could feel his mind half occupied with letting his opposition know that he was the one in control, half occupied with the nausea in the pit of his stomach building from the memory that it was something only Kylo Ren would do. 

This wasn’t Ben.

Rey’s own heartbeat roared in her ears as Ben shook his head and reached down for the weapon again. Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber, passed down to Luke and now to him. A burden of the Skywalker name that had fallen on his shoulders all his life; never good enough unless his gift was to be used for the dark side. 

A shadow had always been cast over Ben Solo that nobody had warned him about until he was well past twenty, old enough to be scared of what was too late and already set in stone, and just as quickly he’d snuffed that fear out in service to Snoke. “I want it back.” Ben addressed Finn, disregarding Poe completely. The tone of his voice as he spoke was low, tight with attempted control and absent of the mask of Kylo Ren that made both the panic and anger so much easier to read. “I won’t carry it, but Rey can take it. Nobody else.”

It would be so easy now to press reassuring words into his head, at least would have been if he hadn’t blocked her out. Their thread in the force was trembling, vibrating but neither side yielding in their defenses. The storm mounted a newfound ferocity in him, not the raw, cold animosity of Kylo Ren, but something more potent, something stirring and awaiting release. She felt the cave floor quake beneath her feet as if that power was excited by her newfound knowledge. 

Ben didn’t need a lightsaber to level the entire resistance camp. Rey had witnessed the destruction wrought from his very hands in his quest for power, his mind so much more sharply honed to the force than her own. Regardless, she played along as if only to ease the tension that coiled them all tightly and threatened to bring a ceiling in on their heads.

“That’s fair,” She urged almost desperately, looking as Ben extended the saber’s hilt to her. “If it’s necessary, then I will take it with me at all times.” She retrieved it, silently cursing and just imagining the deprivation that her companion would soon suffer.

Deprived of his family saber.

Deprived of decency.

Deprived of respect.

Stripped of anything that could nurture Ben and keep Kylo Ren buried. They were only doing more harm to his mental state than good, but she hadn’t any reason to believe they could ever actually care as far as he was concerned. 

Fighting her own gentle tug to the dark side--that internalized anger clawing its way up was much harder to push down in that moment as well. 

But the first half of negotiations were done and concluded. Rey sheathed the sabers, making exaggerated motions to show how carefully she handled it and ultimately sheathed it while ignoring a pointed look from Poe. They were given little time to prepare after that, so Rey worked out the soreness in her muscles in the brisk walk to  _ wherever.  _ Thankfully that force pulling on the ship released, and she could scarcely hear the bend of the metal moving back into place.

Ben was flanked by the pair of resistance fighters and Rey took her place behind them aside Finn--Poe of course taking the lead, however insecure he likely felt doing so after attempting to square up to Kylo Ren. Easing into the leader position was a transition the new general was not enjoying in place of Leia, especially the barriers of discontent it wrought through him and his friends.

“It’s a cell isn’t it?” Rey hissed between clenched teeth, her voice hushed.

“Well, it’s not really a  _ cell.”  _ Finn answered sheepishly. “It’s like his own little area. It’s secluded and peaceful and…” He gave up his facade half way, deflating. “Rey. he needs to be controlled. We have to be sure.”

“This isn’t going to help things. You couldn’t convince Poe to just leave him be? At least for a few days to adjust?”

“Yeah,” Finn rubbed at the nape of his neck as they passed through the rocky crags outside of the cave and approached the old Tantive IV. He continued to ramble on while Rey thought of the possibility that they would actually bunk Ben with the others despite being concerned for their safety and his recklessness. “I don’t know what happened there. I just believed in what I was saying and then Poe went along with it. But it was something else, too. I just don’t know how to really describe it.” 

The mention of his earlier negotiations drew her attention back. She opened her mouth to press further, only to be silenced when they were led through the winding corridors of the flagship and approached the only observation room harbored upon it. It’d never been used--Leia not being fond of the idea of hostages. At the most, they were used for the more eccentric resistance fighters, and even then it was only when they were intoxicated and happened to get into a dispute. 

It had been hollowed out. A single thick durasteel door sat in the very center while a massive viewing window stretched the length of the room. There was nothing more aside from that than a separate stall that led to a refresher obscured in one corner, a cot in the very middle and a table that had been taken from one of the bunk rooms and one single chair. Rey didn’t make out much more of the room, her heart dropping in the pit of her stomach and replaced with a renewed fury.

“Poe!” Rey started past Finn who grabbed for her, but was instantly seized when she raised her hand and froze him in his tracks. His entire body went rigid, her control lacking in the moment of anger and sending him stumbling backwards by an invisible force. 

“Calm down. We will discuss terms back in my office after the first break,” Poe spoke up, knowing full well that her spike of emotions would come with the realization that the Force pair were to be separated. The door slid open, the air hissing from the release valves as the resistance fighters gestured for Ben’s compliance.

“No, we need to discuss this  _ now _ ,” she stepped towards the general close enough she had to tilt her face to acknowledge him, though he did not have much height on her. Not in the way Ben had, whose statue gave her a mysterious thrill that she had no explanation for.

_ With me.  _ She stole a breath, stealing a look over as the resistance fighters ushered him none too gently inside of the room. The glass and the steel may as well have been one of the chasms upon Exegol, depthless, empty, threatening to split them apart when the ground had opened up to swallow them. 

But with her promise to Leia, she wasn’t giving up on him, wouldn’t allow him to feel like so much less than he  _ actually _ was. They gave them long enough for her to seize his hand beyond the threshold of the door before it clicked shut between them. The touch was much too quick, too fleeting, and left Rey fighting against the nauseating waves of wrath that threatened to overtake the common sense that warded her against lashing out.

At least Poe was accepting of quicker negotiations, taking a step back and gesturing for her to follow him down the hall towards his office.  _ Leia’s office, _ Rey realized. Her force hold on Finn laxed in the moment, making him shake off the invisible grip while muttering under his breath. Something along the lines of  _ I hate when she does that. _ There they left Ben to be holed up, alone, with little explanation of their further intentions that was overshadowed only by their concern for safety.

When he passed the threshold of Leia’s office, his hardened expression changed into a more relaxed anticipation, chewing at his lower lip while the doors behind them seamlessly pulled shut. “I know how you feel.” He began before she could say anything, positioning himself behind Leia’s—now his—desk, palms planted against its surface. His head sunk between his shoulders as though preparing for her scorn and bracing himself for words laced with venom.

In the moment that was all she had. 

“You’re angry, but this is what would make everyone feel safe.” Everyone in the resistance had already voiced their concern for Kylo Ren being on their ship, their hushed whispers, their quiet rage, their want for blood. Children had been kept under a watchful eye, and Ben never went anywhere without a pair of eyes on him. “We have to do this. If he’s going to stay on the ship then he is being kept under careful surveillance. I can allow you to escort, but he’s going to have to remain compliant.” And the words felt final, agonizingly so as the general straightened, watching her with a look of utter defeat. He couldn’t please everyone, but at that point he was damn well trying. “I’m doing this for you, Rey. The terms might not be fair, but for someone like him it’s a way better punishment than what we had originally decided for him.”

Life on Jakku had created inhabitants as harsh and unforgiving as its climates. Rey had thought she buried that part of her, left it back there to be swallowed up in the shifting and collapsing never to see the light of day again, but she realized now more than ever how severe a weapon all of that solitude made her. She’d passed through the doorway of Leia’s office — now  _ Poe’s office _ — with her tongue and words primed and ready, to turn on him with all the animosity reserved for a feral animal. Except there, behind the desk, she only found her friend and not the obstacle she tried to envision. 

Her anger melted away to a heavy grievance that made her shoulders sag in visible defeat. “It is fair,” she agreed, albeit miserably and clearly defeated. She approached the desk that separated them, but did not make any further motions to sit or relax herself. “I can’t expect everyone to understand or believe what it is I know to be true,” she replayed the translucent vision of Leia in her mind, and felt the way she hid behind the former General’s words like a shield to protect herself from admitting the truth: 

Rey had put all of her hope and faith into Ben’s ascension. Seeing him slip in the least second only to come back a heavier force than before. She had tread on glass for him, had endured battle after battle for him, but she could not expect everyone else to do the same. Rey sighed and nodded her head, as if resigning to an internal argument that pinched her soft features into a scowl.

Compromising was better than nothing. She took his word that these terms were much more than Ben deserved, all things considered. She had not been so quick to forget who Kylo Ren was, but finding and learning about Ben Solo made it easier. Her friends, the rest of the resistance, did not yet have that luxury. But perhaps eventually they would. 

“Okay,” she started, squaring her shoulders before proceeding, “Let  _ me _ escort him as long as he remains... compliant. There is no need for the extra surveillance seeing as our surplus of fighters since the battle on Exogol. When I’m occupied—” Her face twisted into one of discontent as she struggled to speak of him more like a human being deserving of his personal freedoms, and not like a pet to be crated when no one would be able to watch him, “When… When I’m occupied, he can remain in his quarters.” She could do it. The intrusive thought pushed its way through. If she wanted, she could reach into Poe’s mind and rearrange his thoughts enough to graciously fall to her suggestions,  _ and more. _

Instead, she planted her feet and swallowed hard, fighting the appeal of such an easy way out by extending an invitation of trust instead. Friends didn’t manipulate friends even if the situation called for it. Despite the gratitude she still wanted to extend to Finn for keeping Poe from following through whatever the initial decisions had been about Ben’s existence within their ranks. Her mind flickered to Finn then, suddenly anxious to seek him out and further discuss the incident personally.

“That’s all I wanted you to understand.” Poe yielded, shrugging helplessly but at least meeting her gaze without shrinking too far. “I’m not happy with the arrangement either way, but we all owe you. For whatever you did. Winning us this war, we couldn’t have done it without you. I’m sure General...” He paused, shaking his head, the grief from her loss still too heavy a burden on his shoulders.

“ _ Leia _ saw that too.” His next words came out with a grimace, eyes downcast. “And although I will never find it in myself to trust him, he  _ is _ her son. I imagine she’d been waiting for this for a long time.” With a slow nod, his head rose to address her once again, but only to dismiss her and the conversation further. No more begging and pleading, Rey had to take the decision for what it was.  _ Their  _ decision. At least he was taking steps to somewhat tolerate Ben, despite how much he so obviously despised the thought. 

It wasn’t a victory, but Rey could chalk it up to something more than she had anticipated walking into the conversation initially. Satiated, she nodded to the curly haired man from across the desk. The compromise was difficult for him, and it weighed on him to admit that he was trying to do what Leia would do while simultaneously doing right by the resistance. “I’m doing this for her too,” Rey whispered, albeit quiet, nearly inaudible and she wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t heard her.

“Thank you, Poe,” was all she managed to offer him. Despite the divide between them, a solution had been offered, a fragile show of truce. For that alone, Rey was relieved. She nodded to him, quick and with finality before turning and leaving him behind in the office. 

* * *

Finn had stayed behind on watch outside of Ben’s “room”, still shaking off the force hold that she had once gripped him with, still grumbling about how much he hated it, but also watching Ben attentively through the glass. Doing nothing more than  _ sitting.  _ The lights blaring down on him as though he were a trophy.

Irritation emanated faintly from Finn, but Ben looked so startlingly calm, the two males locking eyes, a different sort of tension drifting through the air between them in waves. She tried to look in order to find the source, her curiosity carrying her through the thread that entangled them, catching just a glimpse of Ben’s memory of sleeping in her quarters before she was promptly shut out. 

Was Finn frowning?

Just out of the corner of her eye, she could’ve sworn she saw Ben smirk, subtle but it was there. 

She shook it away for now, making a mental note to ask either about it later. “Hey, Finn.” 

Finn caught Rey’s approach and loudly cleared his throat, struggling to compose himself with a sudden rush of blood to his cheeks. 

“He... Hey Rey!” He greeted her almost too eagerly. “You-You talked to Poe? What’s up?” And then Finn grinned, again almost too forced, and the slight mocking she could feel radiating off of Ben—something she swore she wasn’t imagining—Finn shot a glare in the man’s direction who didn’t even spare him a second glance.

“Listen, can we-- Can we talk?” She cast another glance to Ben and tried to disguise the longing that seized her, if only to reassure herself that he would be okay where he was--as awful as that sounded to her. 

Finn cast one almost victorious look to Ben, although the context of that win was seemingly unknown, but the feel of tension in the force did heighten somewhat. “Yeah-Yeah sure. We can talk.” 

Rey led Finn down the corridor that winded back to the bunks. In the middle of the day, they were generally empty, apart from a couple of the night shifters who were sleeping off their hours in the far corners where light could not permeate through the glass panels. 

“Tell me more about yesterday, about the thing you said you did,” she made an awkward gesture to her head, insinuating she was trying to talk about his influence over Poe without dropping any names. Even if the bunks were spacious and their conversation muffled by various empty beds, she didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing.

Her question proved to be more difficult to explain, evident by his simple shrug. “I’m not sure. Poe just wasn’t exactly being fair—to you—and something happened, a kind of weird feeling and it’s like I knew exactly what to do or what to say rather.” His brows pinched together. “And Poe just agreed with me, but I mean I saw you do it once. I figured it was just normal, you know? I don’t... really know much more than that.” Ever so gently his nails scraped at the back of his head, almost sheepishly like he was being reprimanded by her. “I didn’t mean to. But it got Ben a lighter sentence, right? So I figured you know if anything while it seems immoral, it was the right thing to do at the time.”

One more pause and he was looking at her, chewing at his lower lip and then releasing it. “Rey, there was something that I had been trying to tell you, you knew throughout everything before Exogol and the battle. I kept getting interrupted actually.” He laughed, soft and awkward, shifting his feet and grasping for the right words.

But she knew. Of course she knew. 

“I know that you-- I mean, I find it very flattering that you would feel… like that, for me.” Now it was Rey’s turn to stumble, scratching at her nose as she averted her eyes to avoid his incredulous expression. “But I’m not--I’m not really looking for any--”

“ _ What _ ?!” Poe gasped, almost a little too loudly. It drew some attention their way from a few passersby, but she was already continuing before he could stop her.

“I’m saying that I understand. We’ve been friends for a while yet, and I think of you quite dearly--”

“Rey, no!  _ No! _ I mean--” Finn exhaled, a sound of frustration escaping him as he drew a hand down his face. Reaching out, his hands gripped her shoulders, giving her a gentle shake to stop her ceaseless and regrettably nervous ramblings. 

“Rey, I think that I might be force sensitive.”


	5. Moral Lessons (Rey)

“ _ Oh. _ ”

The pair had ducked behind a corner in the ship’s hallway to talk. They were given little space to actually move--hence the two standing in such close proximity--but they could be free from prying ears and the curious looks of their peers. Rey’s back had pressed against the wall, cool against the metal and Finn had adjusted so that he would not necessarily be touching her, but obscured at the same time. That meant he had to bend his arms in weird angles and bend his head to actually be able to look at her, but the conversation was more important than their comfort.

“You don’t sound surprised,” Finn remarked, the arm hovering above his head pressed against the wall, gripping the corner. “I’m sorry if you were expecting something more impressive, but-”

“Listen Finn,” Rey closed the little distance between them that remained as if to exaggerate the importance of her next words, a gesture that made Finn recoil, a soft blush dusting his cheeks, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. Rey cocked his brow and Finn cleared his throat, tense muscles noticeably relaxing.

“I’m… I’m listening.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’ve had my suspicions before, but I think that something bigger is happening here.” It was exciting to Rey in all truth. If Finn was force sensitive, she would see to it personally that he was taught properly--to avoid another Kylo Ren. 

No offense to Ben of course. 

“You recognize what is right and what is immoral, and that’s good. This can be very useful. We could get you started on training right away, teach you how to hone the force and control it, wield it to your advantage--” Rey was rambling, voice half caught in a whisper, stopping the rushing of her thoughts that promised possibilities, and solutions. Perhaps even reviving the Jedi temple. Or what about the entire order? 

She took a deep breath, her hands coming up, palms outward as if that would help to halt her spiraling thoughts. “Anyway, I also wanted to thank you. For helping Ben. I know that it wasn’t easy, and probably not what you wanted, but it means worlds to me.” She dropped her hands, every tension she felt before seamlessly slipping from her shoulders.

Friendship with Finn felt simple, talking to him without reservations. Though her mind still snagged on Ben and his situation, it was a relief to focus on something else.  _ Anything _ else. There were hundreds of lessons coursing through her mind, except unlike Luke or any other tutor, she made a mental note not to lecture, nor speak of things like the weight of the galaxy relied upon discipline and that he was the one that would save them all or any other such nonsense. 

Finn was  _ not  _ going to acknowledge the force like how she had been expected to, like some burden that she constantly had to fight to maintain control of. 

“I did what anyone would have done.” Finn remarked, as though trying to convince himself that he had simply been a good citizen when choosing against kicking Ben out to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Like he didn’t have some sort of personal reasoning for doing so. He sounded convincing to himself, but Rey didn’t buy it. 

“You originally wanted him out just as much as Poe.” Rey reminded him. 

“ _ You _ didn’t.”

“So?” Rey furrowed her brows at that. 

“Maybe it’s the force sensitivity thing and I can just see good in him or something.”

“That’s not exactly how it works.”

“Can I just say you’re welcome, and that be it?”

She nodded stiffly. “Okay, sure.”

“Then you’re welcome.” Finn smiled--innocent in nature, and as if on impulse, Rey returned the gesture. Maybe it was best just to leave it at that.

“Ouch!” Finn’s face suddenly split into one of discomfort, doubling over. Or he would have if his forehead hadn’t smacked against her own. 

Unfortunately for Rey, she couldn’t move back any farther, hissing at the sudden burst of pain that exploded against her skull. Stars burst in her vision, and she cursed in every language she knew--which wasn’t very many but the amount of expletives that emerged from her lips were impressive and enough to turn two heads at least. Her eyes watered, hand coming up to rub against her forehead until it had subsided and instead replaced itself with a dull throb.

“Stars, BB-8!” Finn winced, turning to their side. The familiar little BB-8 droid rolled by over Finn’s foot with a whirring and exchange of sporadic beeps, seeming none too apologetic, rather curious and inquisitive instead.

“No, it’s fine.” Rey assured the droid, dropping her hand and looking at him through one eye as she attempted to refocus. “We were just talking.” 

BB-8 whistled low and exaggerated, his spindly welding arm aimed and ready.

“Nothing. There’s no reason to worry.”

BB-8 swiveled his head to look up at Finn, not taking the wide berth to go  _ around  _ them, rather rolled straight over his foot once again with one more series of informative beeps and whistles. It retracted its weaponized arm, rolling out from behind their cover.

“Breakfast?”

BB-8 chirped in confirmation, having expressed his indifference to Finn at that moment and meandered off to do whatever it intended to do next.

“Kriffing breakfast already?” Rey turned her focus back to Finn who was glaring at the retreating droid, taking a step out of their cover to rub at his ankle. Has time truly passed that quickly? How long had they been talking? “Come on, we can talk more about this later.” She emerged from their obscured corner rather hastily, giving Finn one quick reassuring clap on his shoulder and bolted for the mess hall.

* * *

The cafeteria bustled with activity, members of the resistance crowding inside and chowing down for their morning meals. It wasn’t much, but at least they weren’t forced to hide anymore. All of their chatter was friendly, almost as if they had forgotten that Kylo Ren had taken up residence inside of their ship. Then again, he was locked inside of a cell--That’s what it was, not a  _ room,  _ and that was likely the only reason for everyone’s suddenly high spirits. It hadn’t been an energy she had felt since arriving back.

The threat was locked away from them, even if they didn’t know that Ben was a threat whether contained or not.

But things almost felt normal and she latched greedily onto that illusion for as long as she could. Whether or not Finn had taken into consideration any of her lecturing, she was relieved. She wasn’t alone, although Ben had solidified the concept that she wasn’t, but it appeased her to know that all of her nights spent in solitude, scavenging for her survival and relying on the foolish hope that someday, she would not have the crushing sense of loneliness as her only companion--when her parents were supposed to have come back for her.

“And I still think that you’re one of the worst pilots I have ever seen.” Finn grinned, recounting the time that they had crashed none too gracefully in the Jakku desert and only one had emerged accounted for. Finn. Who had resorted to teasing Poe about it for the last ten minutes. “Rey can pilot a rust bucket with at least  _ some _ grace.”

“The ship was shot down. What did you expect me to do? Pilot away from a bunch of First Order ships with subtlety? Do you not remember the chaos we left their base in?” Poe challenged.

“You? Subtle?” Finn scoffed. 

“Says the guy with the subtlety of an AT-AT walker. You’re literally the worst stormtrooper I’ve ever seen, blaster-boy.” Poe quipped in return.

Rose tossed a defeated look in Rey’s direction, rolling her eyes. Rey’s smile was as equally defeated, obscured around a mouthful of food that she had stuffed in order to avoid being pulled into the boy’s antics. 

“And I helped Rey fix the rust bucket without even knowing how!” Finn boasted. 

“I thought you said that you knew how?” Rey said incredulously, coughing as she worked to swallow her food. A low whistle from BB-8 only confirmed her assumption. Finn sat up straight, averting his guilty gaze. “You didn’t  _ just _ lie about being a part of the resistance?” 

Finn flinched, recoiling from her. “I… may have had BB-8’s help to kind of fool you.” 

“BB-8!” Rey turned to the droid as he rolled back and forth on his spherical axis, issuing a series of whirrs and beeps that didn’t sound as convincing as he attempted. 

“Oh, you felt bad for him?” 

BB-8 turned its head, and with one final beep of finality he sped around the table behind the safety of Poe. 

“I was _ not _ trying to impress her!” Finn objected. “I just didn’t want to be found out, and you know, get kicked off the ship or anything.”

“Except you were.” Rose added.

“Blaster-boy is also a lover-boy.” Poe agreed.

“The First Order only taught their stormtroopers how to shoot and take a hit. I wasn’t given a lesson in repairing garbage ships.” Finn scoffed.

“Taught you how to miss, maybe.” Poe mumbled under his breath.

“And don’t disrespect the falcon like that. It made the-”

“Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.” Finn, Rose and Poe said monotonously in unison. 

“We’ve heard you say it at least a million times.” Finn mused. 

Rey’s features scrunched together. “It’s still a good ship.”

“Rust bucket.” Poe corrected. “We should just melt the thing down and use it for spare parts.”

“Don’t you dare!” Rey gasped, her neck snaking back.

“Anyway, Rey’s second crush aside-” Rose interrupted.

“ _ Second _ ?” Rey and Finn scoffed. 

“I put some blankets and essentials in the hall over there.” Rose jabbed a thumb over her shoulder towards the mess hall. “I figured you could hand it to Ben. He’d probably appreciate it more from you than us.” And while she seemed sure of that fact, Rey was still reluctant to agree. “Just as a token of peace, I guess. He was pacing a lot earlier and really agitated. I figured we could make him at least somewhat comfortable.” Her gaze flicked over to Poe and Finn who shifted uneasily, and although they had the best intentions, they were also partially right. 

As much as she hated to admit it, their decision of sacrificing one person’s comfort to several hundred seemed like the best option. Especially since they didn’t  _ know  _ Ben. Not like her anyway.

“Thank you, Rose.” Rey forced a smile, still casting one gentle and warning glare Poe’s way for his earlier comment. “He’ll appreciate the gesture I’m sure, and I’ll give him your regards. I should go check on him.” Rising from the table, Rey started for the food line and waited. She tried not to stamp her feet or sway with anticipation. Most difficult of all, she resisted the urge to search down the tether of the force that connected her and Ben to gauge how it was he currently felt.

When her turn finally arrived--after waiting a scarce few minutes for one of their younger resistance members to stop arguing about the menu for the day--she grabbed a tray of whatever stew had been prepared the previous night, and a couple of foreign fruits. Retrieving a nutrition drink that filled the gap in their very sparse diets, her arms were full. 

Rey wobbled out of the cave into the winding hallways of the ship, balancing the drink and tray in her arms, making a pit stop for the blankets neatly folded by the room and the essentials that Rose had so graciously packed. She arranged the items carefully, balancing them with a surprising amount of expertise and meandered down the remaining distance of the corridor. 

Unfortunately for her--and Ben--she very much  _ felt  _ him before seeing him. The stirring, well the  _ scratching  _ against the front of her skull was aggressive and oppressive at the same time, smothering almost. Adrenaline shot through her veins, electrifying the rapid pulsating of her heart. 

His thoughts were intoxicating, choking and suffocating her. She knew he sensed her there, feeling the flurry of emotions through their thread in ways she promised herself she would never purposely do. She fell to the temptation, and it mocked her. This was the part of her that she recoiled from, but one she had learned to embrace. It wasn’t right--prying, but Rey let herself feel it, breathed him in.

She was drawn to the power, but it wasn’t the power in itself that conjured this heady mixture of apprehension and hesitance within her. It was just Ben. His thoughts, his wants, his fears, attempting to squash them in the force, to  _ think _ , to remain in control _. _ Absent of words, void of everything and stripped down to just the raw veins of emotion that coiled around his very being. She felt the manifestation of his feelings laid in bare thought. 

All at once, she withdrew completely.

Despite retreating back into her own mind, she could still feel the heaviness of his emotions. It cast a tension over the ship that left even her on edge. A darkness that absorbed that negative thought, kept back only by the light that resonated within Ben Solo. For once, Rey felt like the outsider looking in. The one that wanted some piece of his world, wanted to understand.

Stopping outside the durasteel doors which were manned by a droid, it eyed her with its face of blinking and alternating lights, a series that flicked from red to green in confirmation. The doors parted, and with one breath to steel herself, Rey ducked her head and pressed in before the doors could part all the way.

Ben sat cross-legged, eyes closed and lulled into a sense of calm. After the events of the day, it was no surprise that he would want to delve into somewhere quiet, and peaceful, even if the terrors of his mind simultaneously awaited him there. A glass of water levitated just a few inches off the ground next to him, and Rey could sense every little shift in the air while he concentrated. Calm washed over his expression, his own feelings numb to her in that moment, focused on something much farther away.

Rey’s presence however hit him like waves in an ocean. A tide of anxiety, electric in the air giving way to a startling resolve. Her presence echoed so strongly back at her that even his meditation couldn’t keep her out. Breathing in deep, his eyes snapped open, his rear hitting the ground, the glass of water tumbling to the floor beside him. At first he made no move to get up, his facial features twitching in slight irritation, blinking to finally look up at her when she emerged inside of the room. That focus switched off instantly, and he clenched his jaw to keep from frowning. 

She reigned back her anxieties at the sight of him, and she averted her gaze at staring too long, moving to the side of his room to empty her hands. A lot of space was left unoccupied, Ben looking so much smaller than he actually was. When she turned to look at him again, he had mastered the art of masking thoughts that otherwise scrawled themselves over her own face. She couldn’t read what wasn’t in his eyes, but undoubtedly she knew that he was reading her. 

When she originally stepped foot inside of the room, she had expected a raging storm from the way Rose had put it, but it had been her that had gusted through in a storm of emotions, nerves riding a squall that proved to be hypersensitive against her original apprehension. She inhaled a sharp breath, measuring up his stature with an emphatic sweep of her stare. From his black boots to the tufts of dark hair at the top of his head, he was coiled tightly with  _ control.  _ She was here pouring herself at his feet like the glass he had spilled.  _ Just stop.  _ She told herself with a deep breath. “Rose gave these to me to bring to you.”

“Oh,” Ben answered lamely. “That’s…” A pause. Picking for the right word. “Good.” He sounded apathetic enough, indifferent to his current situation, but Rey knew that was merely a mask that he had put on. Uncaring, indifferent, but even she knew when he was slightly bothered.

He pushed himself to his feet, flicking one look over her before his eyes settled on the tray of food at her side. His voice raised to be heard, and perhaps that was the only reason she caught the uncertainty behind it. Even with his tone even, and his expression flat, his gaze lingering over her if only to look. And then he suddenly blinked, shaking his head. “I suppose I’ll have to thank her then.”

“She was a bit concerned about you before I came.” Rey started again with a stronger resolve, albeit more awkwardly. Small talk was something the two never excelled at, their talks consisting of who would be joining which side and who would be the one to take whose hand. They had never come upon an agreement on that--not really--but Rey had taken Ben’s hand in the end, and she counted that as a win.

But what could she say at that moment? Inquire about how it felt to stare at the same four walls for hours? What he thought of her home or her friends? If he would rather be anywhere else? Her fingers fumbled to pry open one of the nutritional drinks, her stomach rolling at the thought of ingesting anymore. When she’d managed to get it open, she extended it to him. A token of peace, an olive branch, a truce, whatever would get him to take it.

“I talked with Poe too. I managed to buy you some freedom. At least, I can chauffeur you around without someone breathing down our necks at all times.” 

“Is that it? Is my freedom something we have to buy now despite their earlier agreement?” It did feel degrading to talk about him in this way. She’d been tiptoeing around the larger and more glaring truth, that Ben had followed Rey home and she led him to this misery. He’d warned her and she didn’t listen.

“I’m sorry, Ben.” She fumbled, her words proving to be insignificant, but the apology extended far beyond just the day’s events, or the last few.

“Yeah.” He took the drink in his hand, rolling it over in his palm, and set it down next to the cot. 

Silence filtered through the air between them, their breathing almost inaudible, slow as though if one were to hear it, it would break the fragile peace that finally settled in their lives, however brief it was. But the world out there was irrelevant, the people in the hall, the guards, everything. It was just her, and  _ him _ . Her voice sounded so clear and soft and fragile, and Rey mentally kicked herself for waving that weakness around him so freely.

Ben didn’t look at her first, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, eyes cast out somewhere else. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does.” Rey argued. “If they can just see that you’re like me, that you can help the resistance-”

“You’re nothing like me.” Ben interrupted. “You’re…  _ you. _ Good, bright..” The tone of his voice dropped to mirror her own, turning to face her, looking her over as his head sunk between his shoulders. A sigh ripped through him. And then he smiled, almost genuine, pulling at both edges of his mouth as he looked up once more.

More than anything, she wanted to root herself beside him and never leave; remain the being that kept watch. Protective, fierce, and ready to endure the perilous journeys ahead, whatever may come for the both of them. She hadn’t realized how long she had waited for Ben Solo, her very soul recognized him and refused to relinquish its hold. Whatever his was, hers played a careful part. Two halves, barreling towards whatever end. 

That smile had cracked the facade that she had deeply studied for so long. Her own lips mirrored his into a dimpled grin. “Well, there’s still a light in Ben Solo. I can see it.”

Rey had acknowledged the kinks in her sore muscles already, a result of being compacted against him on her skinny cot the night before. It had been the best sleep she’d ever had. “I haven’t always been deserving of their help either.” She admitted after another stretch of silence, reflecting on the many times she had almost given up on the resistance--on the war. How she had thought of returning home to her life on Jakku where things had been more simple, back when she had known exactly what she had needed to do and how to get it done.

It’d been lonely, empty, repetitive, unforgiving, but predictable and without anticipation of when she would say goodbye to this new life that had been so ungracefully thrust upon her. “You give me a lot of credit. Yourself, not enough.” Ben was  _ everything.  _ A person that weighed heavy in her heart, undeserving to be tainted by the crushing dullness of the cell. 

But Ben drew himself back from her, the air of estrangement thickening between them. She didn’t allow it, closing the distance between them and snagging his wrist in her grasp. “Why don’t you eat? You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.” Another half-taunt, a purposeful shrouding of details to catch his curiosity. To get him to anticipate  _ something.  _

“I give myself the credit I deserve.” Ben slid into the seat that she had directed him toward, “People were afraid of me because I was a child that couldn’t control my emotions, but what I  _ could  _ do was smash an entire row of plates into the wall when I was angry.” His eyelids fluttered, as if replaying the memory, and Rey swore she could see it. 

The fear on his family’s face, Leia urging him to calm down and  _ think.  _ How he had tried, but it was an unwavering anger that he could never control, that control buried amongst other things. “They tried their best I think. My parents, Skywalker, but nobody knows how to control an out of control force sensitive child.”

Eyes diverting from her as he said it, his voice was hushed, straightening in the uncomfortably small chair. “I was given enough chances, and they were wasted because I was  _ scared _ and  _ alone _ , and because I listened to Snoke above everyone else. I was weak, and not confident that I could live up to the Skywalker name.” Frustration lilted his tone, even if his voice remained as calm and neutral as it had always been.

Rey nodded, taking a seat across from him. “I imagine the truth of your lineage was very difficult for you to handle. There is no reason to feel you need to atone for  _ that.” _

“It was at a very public meeting. My mother’s political enemy told the entire senate before she had even informed me, only because it  _ wasn’t the right time _ .” He quoted her words. “I was already angry. But it all suddenly made sense. I didn’t stop to think about those I killed in entire villages, only because they were in the way of the First Order, or because someone annoyed me. Reasonings didn’t matter then, and my reasonings now shouldn’t matter to you. They don’t matter to the Resistance.” Despite his casualness of the subject, the feelings connected to the memory had been snuffed out. 

His face was void of emotion when he spoke of it, unless a generalized frustration counted. 

“It is behind you. A memory buried behind the history of Kylo Ren. Someone you are no longer.” But the only thing anyone would remember when they saw his face. An out of control son of the faces of the galaxy, the failed birthright of the Skywalkers. 

“So what is happening tomorrow?” He turned to look up at her, as though eager to divert the subject. It’d already been said, and it was all that needed to be said. “You mentioned something about tomorrow.”

Rey reeled at his memory while it flickered about inside her mind, conjured up by the strong emotion still attached to it. Ben gave no outward approach to acknowledge it, but there were still more moments than not where their connection was raw. Their minds bridged together like a path to one another, so much so that she caught the wisps of his anger--endless and suffocating--and the sense of betrayal that would act as kindling for what would become Kylo Ren of the First Order.

She couldn’t justify his actions, but she remembered how it felt to learn of her own parents, being a Palpatine. The hurt and betrayal at thinking she had been abandoned, sold off, felt as if she could have ripped the sky from over their heads, being the granddaughter of such a dark lineage. She couldn’t imagine living that life in animosity, but she shook the thoughts away for now. He had changed the subject so fluidly from his past to their current present, she had no reason to believe that he had not come to terms with it. 

Propping her elbows on the table, she leaned forward, resting her chin against her hands. “It’s a surprise.”

The steam from his soup wafted toward her, igniting her endless appetite despite eating earlier. “Okay, it’s not really a surprise. Well, it kind of is.” Rey babbled on through Ben’s inquisitive expression, cocking an eyebrow and watching as she continuously talked herself into a hole. 

“There’s a training course set up behind the cave and a sparring ground. I’m sure it’s primitive compared to what you’re used to-” Rey’s face continuously flushed as she rattled on. Ben did that to her, made her nervous in ways she couldn’t accurately assess.

“Sure.”

“What?”

“You and I, bright and early?” Ben dug into his soup, much slower than she would have been. Even if it was not the most exotic meal that he had ingested compared to the First Order, a look of content passed over his face and steeled the nerves that ran rampant on her.

“I- Yes. It’s somewhere that you can exercise and stretch.”

“Not being confined to four white walls, you mean?”

“Right.”

“I could use the extra practice.” Ben went on. “If I’m going to be able to stand toe to toe with you.”

Rey was leaping over moons to see him respond to something positively for the first time in two days. And with as much excitement as she felt herself. It’d snagged his interest in the way his eyes had met hers so quickly, about how he jested her about needing the practice. “We’ll have to get there early to claim it for ourselves,” She reasoned, a newfound excitement in her own tone, her heart leaping in her chest. 

She’d get to see the rising of the sun stars too. But she kept that guilty pleasure to herself. 

“I’m sure they will run when they see us coming.”

“Well, I’m still convinced you had let me win the last few times we fought.” Ben had always held his own when he very much could have overpowered her. She could feel how he had held back, as if waiting for something more to lash out of her. It’d been a previous life, and all of his hesitations eventually led to his undoing when she slipped in a moment of anger, the regret now seated into her memories when she’d plunged a saber through his abdomen on the remnants of the Death Star. 

_ I’m sorry I nearly killed you that one time, and slashed you in the face, and nearly buried you under rubble. There was also that time I closed a door in your face but you weren’t technically there… _

The recollection felt too heavy to say aloud and it likely would for the rest of her days, still a tender wound not yet healed. Rey focused on the thrill she had always tried to ignore when they came face to face--aggressively or not. He’d bettered her. She learned by Luke and Leia, but she had been tested by Kylo Ren, continued to be by Ben Solo. Only one of them tested her emotionally.

“It’s a good excuse to not be in here.” She mentioned casually instead, skirting around thoughts desperately wishing to be expressed. “But it is much more spacious than my room, and you don’t have to worry about cave creatures sneaking in.” Too many times she had awoken to various different bugs skittering across her drowsy form. Revolting, and never would she get used to it.

“Your room also holds something that this place does not.” Before she could ask, he clarified, a dusting of pink brushing her cheeks at his confession. “ _ You. _ Your belongings, your habits, the time you spend inhabiting it, thinking, everything else.” He passed the empty bowl across the table, leaning back in the chair to look at her and acknowledge the befuddlement on her face with the slightest grin. “It holds character. This place, four white walls, a pane of glass and a door. Anyone could be in here and you’d never know the difference. I’d know yours at first glance.” 

Not to mention it’d been where he’d slept the day before. It was just the two of them, in a space very much her own, with her pressed up against him, and his sleeping form more content than she’d ever seen him… 

Rey cleared her throat, standing up to put her hands on her hips and  _ breathe.  _

“I think I’d take my own space even with ‘cave creatures’.” Much needed space was put between them, something he noticed as he stood too, taking the excuse of retrieving the nutritional drink by his cot. “Even with its lack of space in comparison.” He finished, fingers tapping on the bottle, his back to her.

His room--his cell--was bland. Dents marred the walls from other unruly inhabitants, and a few she hadn’t noticed before. The floors, the walls, the ceiling all held the same tone of nothing. Her corner at least held personality; creatures, junk, research, and all.

Once upon a time, she had been in his quarters, physically and mentally. Sleek lines, and polished surfaces, it radiated him and she’d know it at first glance. Coldness, loneliness, all of the things that embodied Kylo Ren. Seeing Ben within here now, some place with similar qualities, he looked displaced. 

He was much more than what his room told her. The story that told her very little of who he truly was. How would Ben Solo keep his room if he had one? An actual one. 

While he occupied his anxious hands with the carton, Rey toyed with his bowl in her own, turning it and shifting it in her hands. Her gaze fixated on it, willing the color to drain from her cheeks and to stop her thoughts from straying so far. “I’d like to, really. See your own space, I mean. A space that is actually yours. Ben Solo’s.”

“It wouldn’t be too far from yours.” His tone filled with determination--likely the last bit that he could muster, short so as to not give away the trembling in his voice, making his nerves more open to her than they already were. Downing the nutritional drink in one fell swoop, he crossed the room to place his bottle next to the bowl, having to reach past her in order to do so. While he did avoid her eyes, he still  _ looked  _ at her, his eyes lingering over parts of her that she couldn’t quite define at a mere glance. “If you had seen my room back at the Jedi Temple, you would not be impressed.” He finished, eyes darting up to meet hers once again, a challenge that never seemed to get easier despite how much time had passed.

He was so  _ close _ , her heart rate picked up. 

And a breath released that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. His closeness was always disorienting, but something about it seemed so much stronger in that moment. She caught his gaze with her own as he straightened up, and she ignored the pecking sensation that begged her to peek inside of his thoughts. Sometimes she gave in, but she didn’t know if she would be able to handle whatever she found now.

A list of excuses as to why they could share quarters again flitted the inside of her mind. Rey could have been straight forward, suggesting that she merely wanted to, that she wanted to make sure that he was safe and would be comfortable being locked away from the rest of the universe. 

Treading upon this new territory was terrifying within itself--and hopefully mutual--but she didn’t acknowledge it. Her chair grated against the metal floor as she stood, pushed back by her legs. Ben had withdrawn, but she persisted, caught up in a magnet that urged her closer. She measured him up with a gaze that demanded to steady her nerves. A focused expression caught his mouth, the curve of his jaw, his unruly hair. 

Rey couldn’t do it. “I am going to take this for you.”

What if he could feel the longing? Surely he was lonely too, just like her? Confused? Uncertain? If she didn’t concentrate, he would be able to slip through the defenses of her mind, being much more experienced with the force than her. She’d already felt the comfort of his solid form against her, how she fit so neatly around him, and him beside her. How could they be separated in the first place?

_ Poe and literally everyone else, of course. _

Then again, it was no wonder why he was so confused. She was the most unattractively awkward thing to ever grace the galaxies. Ben Solo was not perfect by any means, but definitely something much more than he would acknowledge himself. More than what she had expressed to him before. Rey knew her answer before she bid him a quick goodbye and took his tray out to the hallway. Long before she could expose even a hint of eagerness for the morning.


	6. Conditions (Ben)

_Ben, no!_

The lights within the Tantative IV’s corridors were invasive, pouring into the cramped cube that made up Ben’s current quarters. One sharp sliver of fluorescent light illuminated across the tile floor that separated his cot from the table. Ben laid in the shadows, eyes fixated through the pane of glass that separated him from the rest of the resistance. No one ever bothered taking this stretch of hallway--partially in fault to Ben being a presence that everyone had to pass by on their way through. 

Panic gripped his heart and squeezed it tightly. It brought him from his already restless sleep and scrambling for a lightsaber that he didn’t have. Nothing came to his hand when his panicked call urged it forth, nothing but a flexing of his fingers and the realization that Rey still held it in her quarters. How conventional of them to confiscate it before his execution...

Ben grimaced, rolling from his cot to stand, one hand braced at his side. Around him, the metal walls groaned almost soundlessly, holding a slight tremor with his growing power. He could hear them shift, the nails holding them together bend the barest amount, and the window threatened to crack.

A shadow flickered by it, so sudden as it came and went that for a moment Ben wondered if he had seen anything at all. But there was no undeniability that he could _feel_ it. That other presence outside of his room, the trembling in the force that pushed him on the alert and away from and thoughts of sleep.

Mind now sharpened with a newfound adrenaline, Ben remained still and waited, every muscle still like a cornered animal, brow drawn, lips parted as if to call out, though to who, he didn’t quite know. The only person he’d ever begged to in his life rejected him more times than he could count. 

The door to his _cell_ opened, blaster fire following the sudden intrusion. 

But he was ready.

Bright pulsations of light ricocheted off of the steel walls and fizzled into nothing, barely illuminating his rattled assassin with each missed shot. He had no time to actually _think,_ his mind and body, one in unison with the force deflected each sloppy attempt on his life sideways with a flourishing hand wave.

His assailant turned and fled through the doorway, but it was too late. Before even he could comprehend it, Ben threw a hand out, his mind delving into the force so quickly, willing it to heed his call. With one jerking motion forward and another thrown back, the would-be assassin slid back into the room, landing with a loud thud against the tile floor.

A tense hush fell over the room--save for the intruder’s panicked gasps as he struggled to catch his breath. Ben took on a much more recognizable posture, one that bled Kylo Ren--bled _anger,_ and _hate._ His form was overbearing, a hard line formed in his mouth as his steps boomed in the pin-drop silence. 

The man--at least he assumed as much as he could in the pale light--grasped for the floor underneath him, but Ben didn’t grant him that reprieve, one swift cut through the air and his assailant was pressed hard into the floor, willing limbs to work that wouldn’t unless _Ben_ said so. 

He wanted to kill him, with this man underneath his hand and the world shuddering around him. And he very well could have, being at his mercy. It wasn’t like he had to think of those who were more worthy or those who actually _deserved_ it. Not before when things made more sense.

“This is all _your_ fault.” Ben snapped, taking in a shuddering breath to gain some semblance of calm. “You shouldn’t be here!”

It didn’t work. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.” He choked, the force grip pressing harder, holding him down, gripping his throat tighter at Ben’s own growing frustration. “You’re… You’re a murderer if you do this!”

Ben closed his eyes at the floor to breathe without wavering his focus, a fuming tug forcing a tighter grip on the assassin’s neck, and his eyes snapped open to unveil something more complex, more _feral. “_ You and I don’t seem too different in that regard.”

He’d moved to a ruthless prosecution, a malicious hunt for the truth behind the man’s intentions with no promise of reprieve, that there would be a reason that Ben Solo would be made a target. That it wasn’t _just_ because of the actions of Kylo Ren.

The philosophy was more complicated, but at one point he’d been a man of no morals.

It wasn’t difficult to find that again now. 

“The only difference is that I can do it _right.”_

“Plea… Please…”

Somehow his begging made him feel ashamed, as if he would be guilty for simply defending himself. Like the man underneath his torture was a victim, and Ben somehow held the key, the _choice._ Ben was scared in his own right, _angry._ He’d learned how to open himself to the light, just not how to let the familiar darkness go. 

“I could kill you.” Ben’s teeth snapped together as he yelled. “Do you _understand_ me?” His vice moved to the man’s abdomen, and with one mere request, his other hand hovering over, his victim writhed in place, shaking uncontrollably. Ben’s own expression was eerily vacant as they locked onto the man--no, the boy. He thought he could hear his bone’s begin to shift.

Except his mind snagged on the orange jumpsuit and the standard issued resistance blaster still clutched in his fisted hands. Every muscle was coiled tightly with focus, inspecting his face in the protruding light of the hallway. It was not one he recognized, clean shaven, close cropped hair, and features of nothing more than a boy in his late teens.

And a somberness leaked through the dark endless depths of his eyes as he found himself hesitating. The _why_ completely eluded him. Their eyes were locked, the boy’s wide and scared, and _angry_. Perhaps it was that familiar feeling that stayed his hand.

Then Ben’s gaze hardened again, trapping his mortality inside. All at once, his death grip released, and Ben forced himself to blink, calming his raging focus. 

_Murderer. Monster._

Kylo Ren would have lied, betrayed, and killed anyone who got in his way. Only because there were those that enabled him to, and no matter _who,_ his motives never changed. He’d waded through life with a mindset that it was better to be feared, because there was _no one_ that would grant him any reprieve. 

One person, maybe.

Ben’s head tilted downward, retreating back a few steps. His lips furled, words barely able to escape without a stutter of hate and dismay. His anger felt as if it was pouring from him in waves, and he had to step back. It made him feel ill, to feel their anger pounding against each other--even if Ben’s was much stronger. More painful. 

Floodgates had opened inside, heavy and invasive. Impossible to get away from. He couldn’t block it out, couldn’t focus on _anything_. Ben imagined Rey, saying his name wrapped in anguish and rage; spit it like venom. The thought beat on him and drug him under, making it difficult for him to _breathe._

There was a moment where he felt as if he could feel her presence there. And by the gods there were times that she felt so close but far away at the same time. It was like he was imagining it, a slight tugging sensation in the back of his mind that pulled their thread together.

Ben hoped he was imagining it.

But it was enough to bring him back to reality. “Get. _Out_!” He hissed through clenched teeth.

The boy doubled over in a fit of coughing, his blaster gripped tightly in one hand, palms pressed to the floor. Sweat beaded his forehead, reeking with panic. 

Over time, demise had developed its own particular scent. Horrid and sour, drifting from a smoking blaster, singed flesh burned at a cauterized wound just at Ben’s shoulder, carved by a sudden blast.

The sound was loud, and untamed. It tasted like panic and a sudden rush of adrenaline that was a product of a very, _very_ bad last second decision. The burning sensation was like a poking and prodding of small metal appendages that pulled at his skin reminiscent of one scar he had tended to before, nothing more than an annoyance, a relatively small inconvenience.

It pumped adrenaline through his already pounding heart just the same. 

A pleading kid reaching for him in desperation, ignorant of his own peril just a mere few seconds from him. 

“Wait! Don’t shoot-”

The blaster was yanked from the kid’s hands by an invisible force and came to rest in Ben’s own. Its first shot was a dull hum in Ben’s ears, the other two deafened out one after the other. The broad expanse of his shoulders rose and fell, a blaster now rattling against his side in one white knuckled grip, furious and _hungry._

Ben didn’t hear _anything_ when their eyes met. Nothing but a silent warning as the smoke poured from the wall just above the kid’s head who cowered on the floor. His own fear was replaced with something else, something he couldn’t quite define as he marched over. Fingers curling into his long sleeves gave shelter to his curled fists that swung furiously at his sides; the blaster was tossed away, skidding and clattering across the floor.

And his two hands that played the deciding factor secured themselves in the kid’s shirt collar, yanking him up. Hands that held more than enough kills for lifetimes, ones that lay waiting to claim _more._

And in one fluent motion, Ben threw him through the now open doorway. His small, thin frame slid across the floor with a grunt, his panicked gasps releasing in quick succession. 

Lights flickered on in the hallway one by one, one long continuous row that stretched on into the endless corridors that still confused him. 

Now, there was no darkness to hide him. 

A heartbeat pounded loudly and oddly out of rhythm with the fluttering that wrenched his own. Perhaps it was just another nightmare, mocking him for choosing the paths that he had. Haunting him for _ever_ deciding to come back from it.

In the back of his mind, the part of the thread that kept him and Rey connected hummed with life. Like every single being that passed judgement in his life, it was always there, but now it was awake, reaching through the farthest reaches of the galaxy to find his other half. 

And it didn’t reach very far. Hitting against a wall at a full on sprint, the link crushed under the weight of that she used to block him out so tightly that there was not even a small gap that he could reach through if to just _feel_ her. No cracks for him to pound against. Ben had to wear a mask to shield himself from her, and most times she saw through that, too. 

It crushed him, dark tendrils ripping at his heart, and twisting around his insides. He would never escape in the same sense and any breath of his own that he could catch was immediately lost, staring into light. Bright, and blinding all at once.

But it was a reminder that their bond still persisted. That they were still connected.

For a moment, he lost his predatory darkness that made Kylo Ren so renown. That made _this_ so easy. The internalized rage that came and went as needed, a ruthlessness that was conditional but necessary. One that always returned with a vengeance.

She emerged all at once, always there but never close enough at the same time. Two lightsabers were clenched in the palms of her hands though not activated. Was she afraid?

Before he hadn’t noticed how much smaller she was compared to him, only because she stood her ground so easily.

Rey vented all of the anger, hurt, frustration, pain, _everything_ in that moment into one careful question of her own, tilting her head up to address him fully. 

_“Are you okay?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> First, I hope you guys enjoy this newest chapter. It is short in comparison to the others, but I only have it set up for one scene without it being too ramble-y compared to the other chapters. I just didn't think a 5K word count would fit--also being just one scene.
> 
> Second, I'd like to thank everyone following along on this adventure with me. The reviews that I have gotten so far have all been so kind and positive, and it makes me really happy that people are enjoying it!
> 
> And lastly: 
> 
> I hope everyone is doing well with the world being crazy right now, and please everyone stay safe out there and be no stranger to helping your neighbors! 
> 
> Thanks and I hope you guys have enjoyed and also enjoy what I have coming up in the future! :D


	7. Hurt (Rey)

“Say something.” Rey’s plea was one spoken through grit teeth, falling into a mode of searching. Searching for _anything_ . Any explanation that could explain what she had seen, or more importantly tell her what she hadn’t seen that could have led to what she _had._

It didn’t make sense to her right then, but then again nothing did right now either.

“I’m okay.” 

She didn’t believe him. 

“Emergency protocol initiating--” The droid posted outside of Ben’s door hummed. The R2 unit swiveled the upper half of its body, starting a series of noises that brought her back from reprimanding Ben, stealing a glance sideways and silently hoping Ben wouldn’t disappear when she looked back.

“No, no! No emergency protocols!” She hissed at it, stepping over the trembling boy and clicking a sequence of buttons into the droid’s keypad. 

It beeped and whirred sporadically, spinning on its spherical axis in confusion of the conflicting orders. “Initiating--” It started again. 

Rey turned the saber around, jamming the hilt of Luke’s saber into it. “I said _stop_!” As though willed by some invisible force, the droid flew sideways with consecutive panicked whistles, colliding with the far wall and splintering into a shower of spare parts and wires. She gaped, eyes wide, her hands coming up to run through her hair. 

“Ben--” He was centering himself in her view, filling her panicked stare. He seemed fine, and she grappled for him, her hands bracing his forearms and reveling in his solid form grounding her. 

Until he retreated, and every stretch of distance between them felt agonizingly long. But she knew why, only because their surroundings felt grimly real and the Jedi was turning her attention to the boy. He would tell, through his panic induced stare, as he braced himself on the floor and prepared to run away, she held out her hand holding him there, preventing any form of escape. 

And although it felt wrong. So _very_ wrong, she narrowed her gaze on him, her gaze more focused, more demanding. “You’re not going to tell them.” Two fingers waved through the air in front of his vision, and in a true show of her abilities, he obeyed.

“I’m not going to tell them.”

“You’re going to leave.”

“I’m going to leave.” 

As his steps retreated, her eyes followed him until he was out of her view. “Stop,” She said firmly when she heard Ben’s own boots scrape the ground, moving back farther than she’d be able to reach. 

But it wasn’t what she found herself protesting. “Someone was trying to kill you, Ben.” Rey practically dared him to press her on it, try to martyr himself for something that was beyond his control. “Were you going to kill him?”

“I don’t know.” And that honest truth hit her hard. 

“You don’t know?” She practically whispered, her back to him. Even through the force, she couldn’t _feel_ him, couldn’t scrutinize his expression or take a peek into his thoughts to gouge his own reaction to all of this.

“I thought about it.” 

Rey moved away from the fallen resistance member and towards where the remains of the droid were splayed across the hall, desperate to focus on something else. She did not even remember hearing the droid meet its untimely fate, but the footsteps resounding down the corridor stopped her in her tracks.

A spark of anxiety welled inside her chest, only to be greeted by Finn, disheveled and recently roused from sleep, flanked by a pair of resistance soldiers, all wielding blasters at the ready. 

“The R2 unit alerted me! What’s going on?” Finn walked briskly and with purpose, features creased in concern and a hidden panic so as to not let it show that he was frightened. Of what he thought had happened, that Ben Solo had escaped, that he had likely turned on her. He didn’t have to say it, but she could hear it as loudly as if she had thought it herself. 

Before Ben could interject, Rey pulled herself to her full height and sheathed Luke’s lightsaber, “There was an attempt on Ben’s life. I had to protect him—us.” Her voice held strong, and steady. “No harm came to the assassin, and he’s already been dealt with. No further investigation is needed.”

Finn looked as if he didn’t believe her.

“I’m--I’m sure everything is stored in the R2’s memory. We have nothing to hide, I swear it.” She urged. The resistance soldiers made no move at Finn’s flank, waiting for his order, but Rey could feel their anxieties deeply rooted within their wide stares, looking distrustful of them both.

Finn on the other hand just looked tired, beyond his years, nodding rather solemnly as he issued the order for them to search the scraps for the memory bank while he only faced _her,_ and strangely enough his stare hit much harder than any disappointment from him ever could. 

And that brief amount of time felt agonizingly long, the shuffling of metal parts on the ground and the silence that drifted between them while she shifted her feet and tried to avoid her friend’s look lest she give something away. 

Never mind actually looking back at Ben. 

“I found the memory bank.” One resistance member announced, and before she could blink, they were sealed off back into Ben’s cell as the resistance’s footsteps retreated down the hallway the way they had come. 

Slivers of the early dawn light filled the hallway outside of the cell, and despite it being a brand new day, Rey felt very much in the past, still tired as if she hadn’t slept, still feeling like the day previous when she’d been forced to stand by while they locked him away. Left him vulnerable. 

Whoever stepped foot inside of Ben Solo’s confines were trapped with him. Not the other way around. 

Nobody was at fault that they had to learn it the hard way.

Rey turned to look over her shoulder, just far enough to witness Ben sitting on the cot, no longer looking at her, his mind miles away where she could no longer reach.

They spent so long just _aware_ , having not been given any moment of reprieve until now. A second to breathe, to _think._ She didn’t have time to analyze who they were or what their connection meant. The force brought them together, it concluded with the fall of Palpatine, and yet why could she still _feel_ him as strongly as she always had?

Now that they had that moment, Rey wasn’t sure if she wanted it anymore.

She’d stared down the face of death, had found faith and allowed the Force to guide her down her paths that kept her alive--albeit barely--but she still couldn’t wrap her head around what it meant to have sweaty palms and a heart that wrenched so tightly at the sight of Ben Solo. 

There was no longer the distraction at simply trying to stay alive, and they were two people trying to find a new existence, what it meant, and what they were meant to be--together. 

Settling herself down on the cot next to him, she allowed herself to breathe, let her own defenses slip, allowing the connection they shared to open her mind to him. It was easier not to fight it, which had to mean something. “I’m sorry that everything has been…” Rey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “A mess.” It was best not to sugarcoat that. 

“I don’t know what our next move is. I don’t know what Poe has planned for the resistance or whether either of us even fit into it.” She admitted, every dark cloud of disarray muddling her thoughts. “Now that the First Order is vanquished, I’m trying to avoid having to think back on it.” It was as close as she allowed herself to come face to face with her lineage, who she shared her blood with. If she thought any harder about it, the darkness took root, and she forced herself to wall it away. Rey shut her mind down. 

Ben proved to be an easy distraction, the one thing she could focus on to avoid confronting everything else. A project, as much as she hated to admit it. As much as he didn’t deserve that. As much as he’d willingly enslaved himself to the resistance… A petty fool’s thought to think such tragedy was worth it. To Ben it was. And that was something she would never understand.

“I don’t know either,” Ben spoke honestly, _tentatively._ “I can’t vouch for Poe’s intentions, or the resistance’s next steps. I just know that if you don’t want to think about it, it’s easier to focus on _someone_ else rather than _something_ else. I can’t imagine the truth of your lineage is difficult to hear, but you’re not like Palpatine. You never will be.” And even as his eyes strayed away from her, to his hands, as if he had committed some terrible crime, Rey believed every word. “There’s no connection to you or the First Order. You’re free.”

When she looked at Ben and thought of the things that Kylo Ren had stolen from both of them, it all paled in comparison to what Palpatine had done to their lives. To know that Ben stood with her in the final battle meant more than words could touch. So she touched him instead, urged him to feel her gratitude, took his hand closest to her, but lacking the reserve she used to have, pulling it into her lap instead. 

“But you’re free as well.” She reminded him, voice low and gentle, leaning over so that her words were a mere whisper in his ear. “Because where we’re from shouldn’t define who we are, but rather they should be an opportunity to give us a choice to be who we decide.” Rey would tell him again and again if it would help him remember. She knew that he was unsure, that hesitation, that apprehension. To be birthed again and learning how to navigate without Snoke and Palpatine puppeteering him along, absent of a mind steering him in the opposite direction of where he wanted to be--at one point he wanted to be.

Sitting in that brief shared silence, it felt more comforting to Rey than any other moment during the day’s passing. She adjusted her hold on his hand, turning it over so she could interlace their fingers together. Where her fingers sat, she could feel the faint thrumming of the pulse in his wrist, how quickly it was, but reminding her that he was human. 

“I know that you had a nightmare last night.” She could feel it, even from her room, the anxiety emanating from him, the absolute terror of whatever plagued his mind even at rest. Ben stiffening next to her only confirmed her assumption had been right. “Do they happen often?” It was only a rare occurrence that the visions also assaulted her in their slumber. Their force bond was much more powerful, allowing their minds to intermingle without worry over borders or restraints unless the other insisted on it. Dreaming was a dangerous realm for those who were force sensitive anyway, let alone what they could accidentally expose to each other, their deepest thoughts brought to light.

And while he didn’t need access to her deep unbridled thoughts--not yet anyway--Rey didn’t keep any hope that she could effectively block him out when it came to that.

“I don’t know who I want to be yet.” Ben admitted, squeezing her hand as if to assure her that he was _here._ That he was here and _real._ It all still seemed so much like a dream, despite the dark reality that still hung ever present over their heads. Rey tried to block that out for now. “Right now I’m just trying to get through, helping you when you eventually come out to the resistance after everything Palpatine has done.”

Dark pools of brown remained fixated on where their hands were tangled together, the heat radiating from his to hers so easily. Her light was touching him, and his was touching her back. Warm and bright and everything she wanted to feel and _more._ Except the walls built up around him were still standing strong, but it wasn’t fully effective. There was still a small crack she thought she could peek through. His gentle grip on her hand wavered for just a moment, and he almost pulled away. _Almost_. 

“Different things each time. It’s never the same. Some are memories, some are just made up of everything I’m scared of.” He admitted, straightening from his hunched posture, towering over her a few inches but she was sure that was subconscious, a mere defense mechanism. “My uncle, my parents, Snoke and Palpatine. Memories of when I left the Jedi Order, memories of my training with the First Order. But I had a dream about flying with my father once. The dream of a child just wanting to be a pilot before I stumbled down the wrong path.” That last statement came out much quieter, his thumb running over the back of her hand. “I can still hear Snoke in my head sometimes even though he’s dead. Mocking me, calling me _weak_. Telling me I failed.”

He made to pull back from her, the notion not desired but she could feel the sudden wavering of his thoughts and how his grip on her hand relaxed with hesitation. Only reluctantly did she let him pull back. The air around them shifted and grew heavy again, his gravity so heavy, threatening to pull her in. Rey knew the illusion of Snoke’s mockery, had witnessed it firsthand. That very essence of the dark side that held a tight grip on him and squeezed him tight. 

It festered and manipulated those who fell victim by listening too closely to their weaknesses, to their desires, and unfortunately at the time Ben had so many so young. If she could, she’d pry the very inside of his mind, find the ghosts, and purge them out. Throw herself into that void if it meant she could somehow help. “They’re dead, you know.” She said a bit too forcefully, as if trying to muster up enough courage to convince them both. “I’m sorry, I know it isn’t my place but--” 

“You have just as much of a right as I do,” Ben assured her.

It felt _nice_ to even know that she had someone on her side. Of course she had Finn, Rose, Poe, and the entire rest of the resistance, but they didn’t know her the way that Ben knew her. He looked directly into her darkness, and he didn’t shy away. Once again reaching her hand across his lap, she ran the pad of her thumb over the rough ridges of his knuckles. The bacta tank had done wonders healing the lacerations, and stealing a glance to inspect the place where she had scarred him what seemed like a lifetime ago, the ghost of the moment barely remained.

The memory would always be there, but at least the physicality of it was no longer a stark reminder of what she had once done. 

She moved to pull her legs onto the cot beside him. It creaked beneath them with the shifting of her weight. Even sitting beside him, he took up a majority of the space, and felt to tower over her. That had at once been unnerving, but now she just felt comfortable. 

“You know, if they happen… If you have any dreams like that, I mean, I’ll be right here. You can find me.” Even if he wouldn’t wake her, she would remain attentive so that he didn’t have to.

The barest ghost of a smile played at his lips, stretching his legs out from the open cot rather than pressing them so tightly to his chest as he had been. He nudged her with his shoulders, laying back on the cot, draping his arm across his stomach. 

“I know.” He went on to reassure her. “You always are.”

But the reminder of what had transpired was still a heavy burden on his mind she knew, the heavy feeling in the air never wavering, growing more strongly as time continued to pass, as they waited for Finn to return with his findings.

“I’m sorry.” Ben continued suddenly, forcing themselves out before she could stop any form of apology. It hadn’t been his fault, and looking at him, that one arm across his stomach and the other braced across his forehead, she knew he meant it. “The resistance isn’t going to take kindly to this if they haven’t been roused from their bunks over the situation already.” And yet he wasn’t worried about him, she realized. “You don’t want to lose your standing to the resistance, Rey. Not because of me.” 

“Ben, _stop_.”

“Why didn’t you let me take the fall?” His voice was strained, deep in that way it was when he was upset. “How could you be so foolish?”

“ _Foolish_?” Rey scoffed, blinking. 

The resistance did not consider his safety a priority, and why would they? He was their enemy at the end of the day. How naive had she been to not realize that this would happen? She felt the shift in him before he moved, once again sitting up, standing, fingers raking brutally through his hair as he burned a pace back and forth across the cell. 

She steeled herself, but she did not feel the slow caution that leveled his head the last couple days. It was compromised. He was upset, and it grated at the very forefront of her mind, only because she knew she couldn’t blame him. “There is nothing foolish about wanting to protect _you_.”

Too easily did the moment come, and she shook her head, rising to a standing position herself, her fists curling defensively at her side, her throat aching with more protests she could not get out. Every excuse she wanted to offer died, every apology of her own. “The resistance has to answer for this. Someone tried to kill you, and they cannot easily excuse that.” 

“Yeah, they _did._ ” Ben agreed. “They needed to make it clear they _won._ The war, the defeat against the First Order, the Knights of Ren. _All_ of it.” The similarities between Kylo Ren and Ben Solo were striking in that moment that his pacing stopped. A mask that they were both so easily to put on, an expression so cold and yet noticeably the tone never matched it. The difference at least was that Ben Solo did not match the murderous intent that Kylo Ren did. 

At least she didn’t think so.

“Had you done that--killed to protect yourself, they would have killed you for it. There would have been no reasoning. They would not even consider anything that you would tell them. They would just see it as a battle between _us_ or _you._ ” 

“You won the war too, Rey. I wanted you to embrace that, if I had been able to bring you back. I _thought_ about how I wanted you to wake up and go on. I wanted there to be an _after._ For _you._ I was ready to die with the weight of what I’d done.” Ben ran a hand down his face, his fingers twitching before curling into a fist, as if just _itching_ to find something to break in a tantrum, but aside from the cot, and a small table, there was _nothing._ “I warned you of what would happen if I came back, but you _didn’t_ listen.” Ben snapped, dark pools of brown almost black, dimmed by the flickering lights above. “I _knew_ they would call you a fool and they were _right_. You’re risking your position with the resistance for a First Order fugitive!”

The floor seemingly opened up beneath her feet, and the panic sank into her very being, making her straighten to battle his biting words. Every instinct in her bristled to run, and run far. But she was done, despite her reassurance, and her worries and her fears, never would she run again. Not from Ben, not from Kylo Ren, no matter which one he decided to be in a moment. “I’m risking _everything_ to help you. I don’t care what the resistance thinks of me for that.” Outside of the door, she could hear R2-D2 whirring his head curiously, likely gouging the atmosphere’s temperament for any threat. Rage--waves of it--rose and spilled off of Ben, crashing over her like the tides upon the remnants of the Death Star so long ago now. But there was also confusion, and fear. “Whoever you are, I’m choosing to help _you._ ” 

“ _Kriff,_ Rey.” Ben scoffed, incredulous. “You’re not Leia, or Han or Luke. You’re not in charge of saving my soul. I’m not your project, nor your _pet_ .” He spat. “You should’ve let me face my own punishment with the resistance, but you’re so insistent that I am _not_ Kylo Ren. And you’re _wrong!_ ” His breathing was becoming labored, every word coming out in a rage induced fury as he put desperately needed space in between them, beginning to pace again, the shaking in his muscles betraying any sense of calm. 

“You’re not my protector, nor my sitter to make sure I’m behaving as well as I should.” With one flourishing hand wave he finally finished. “There was a moment that I wanted to. I wanted so badly, and I _didn’t_ . I probably would have if I hadn’t remembered your _constant_ nagging!” 

Rey tried not to let the words hurt, knowing where his sudden frustration came from, but she couldn’t keep herself from frowning, couldn’t stop her own glare digging into his very being. The pure fact that he was trapped in a box, and anyone and everyone--those who he knew and also didn’t--had access to him. Ben was without a weapon, was to be without any form of protection aside from a droid, it was enough. She didn’t fault him for that, but it hurt nonetheless. 

Thankfully, as if on cue Finn opened the doorway and stepped foot inside. “We managed to replay the moments leading up to… it’s unfortunate demise…” He paused as Rey was already shoving past him, out into the hallway past the many judgemental eyes that had already begun gathering there.

“Let’s discuss it. _Away_ from here.” Rey delivered a pointed look over her shoulder, and with a soft huff of frustration, she left him alone.  
  



	8. "Practice" (Rey)

“He knew how to stay out of its line of sight, but the audio is all there.”

Rey’s heart dropped in her throat.

“It all checks out as a defensive altercation on your behalf.”

And at that, she released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and while she should have felt relieved, the evidence would be shaky when presented to Poe. He wouldn’t be so quick to bat an eye where Ben Solo was concerned. 

“And this will stay between the two of us.” 

Rey paused in the emptiness of the hallway, and blinked, but as always she didn’t have to say anything for Finn to know what she was thinking. There was no open Dyad between them that would give him a peek inside of her mind. Sometimes, he just _knew_ and there were times that it was so much more frustrating than it should have been. 

“Yeah, I know I shouldn’t keep covering for you where he’s concerned, but I can’t let him be kicked out of the resistance because of something out of his control. R2-D2 will be taking up a post until we can get a more advanced security system in place.” As if to further confirm his post, R2-D2 beeped and whistled albeit quietly while he continued. “And once again,” Finn mused with a defeated sigh. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” That wouldn’t be enough. Words would never be able to express her gratitude. She’d owe an entire universe full of favors to come even _remotely_ close. 

“Don’t mention it.” Finn’s voice dropped to a bare whisper. “People will start to think I’m picking favorites.” 

“Except, you sort of… are?” Rey pointed out, and just as quickly she was shushed, the softest trace of a laugh escaped her throat, a mere half-chuckle that settled to a smile. “I will not forget this, I promise you.”

Finn threw his hands up, tossing her an innocent smile. “No idea what you’re talking about. Just think about what you’re going to say when Poe hears about it, okay?” His steps retreated and unexpectedly paused, turning one last time to address her again. “Captain Lando is dispatching me tomorrow.” He announced, and the look of surprise on her face must have been enough to urge the explanation forward. “There’s a group of force sensitive children who we’re looking to give asylum with the resistance.”

Rey gaped, but he went on. “And I remember what you told me about, my _gift,_ and I think that I can really help here. Something that only I can do, well aside from you, but you know, you’ve had your hands full with everything recently.” He finished, wringing his hands. 

“Children… They have no place here,” Rey replied with genuine confusion, but Finn fixed _that_ look on her, that unwavering determination. 

“Maybe, but they’re vulnerable out there. People are pledging allegiance to the resistance since the First Order crumbled, but we’re not the only ones with sympathizers. These First Order sympathizers?” He pointed his index finger at the ground, as if to just demonstrate how close the threat really was. “They’re dangerous, and they’ll target force sensitives. And they’re orphans.”

And that pulled a string in her heart. Not just for her, but both of them. She couldn’t deny Finn that. “And Poe is just okay with you doing this?”

“This order comes from Lando, and honestly you just don’t argue with the guy.” Finn laughed at that, and Rey smiled in return. It was all she really _could_ do, still reeling with the realization that there were _more,_ and so _young._

And because of that Rey didn’t leave Finn feeling any better. If anything, she felt more like an outcast as Finn left to deal with something that likely should’ve been her responsibility. Their names had been cleared, at least for now, but their reputations were becoming a stain on the resistance. 

Once again, Rey was left in the hallway alone staring after him. Or at least she assumed she was, until a howling bellowed through the farthest corridors of the ship, loud and unnerving, a quake shaking the floor beneath her feet. But familiar. 

“Chewie!” She greeted, whipping around to witness the Wookiee stride toward her, an overbearing mass of fur that shrouded her in its shadow. He engulfed her in his arms and nuzzled the top of her head, but it was an invited gesture, one she didn’t shy away from but embraced instead. 

Chewbacca growled a series of noises. Noises she understood well enough to answer at least.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” His hand--paw--came to rest on her shoulder as he regarded her with another myriad of sounds and stepped back so that he could look down on her. Rey frowned and nodded. 

“It is true, I did bring Ben with me. Things are different, and he’s changed. He’s no longer the man the resistance believed he would be. Kylo Ren isn’t Ben Solo.” Rey closed her eyes, breathed in a sigh. “I know how strange that sounds, but there is an explanation. He is _not_ clouding my judgement.”

Another series of noises erupted from his throat, dismissive grunts, and a crude gesture flipped her way that she only _knew_ wasn’t meant for her. 

“I understand your ill feelings towards him, but I cannot tell him that you will beat him with his own bloody limbs when you see him next.” She half-apologized, offering only a sheepish smile. “It was a nice attempt, though.”

Chewie whined some soft words that settled a heaviness in her stomach, and she sighed. “I know.” Her eyes darted toward the ground. “I miss him too,” She reassured, thinking back to Han Solo that still hitched her with grief every moment she thought of him. In truth, she couldn’t imagine how much it must affect Chewbacca as well, considering how _violent_ the event had been. 

How much it affected Ben Solo now.

But the desire for vengeance was a feeling that she couldn’t succumb to despite everything. Only because it had been fulfilled as soon as she plunged the cross-saber through his abdomen on the remnants of the Death Star. Hopefully, that action alone would be enough for those affected to consider their grief answered.

Except she knew that was too much to hope for.

After repetitively reassuring him that she would be okay, and once again informing him that she could _not_ deliver his threats and that he’d have to tell him himself, Rey was on her way once again. Avoiding confrontations this time proved to be much easier on her way back to the cave, her steps more quick and her focus diverted. 

* * *

When the durasteel door sealed shut at her back, all she had managed to do was work on reinforcing the barriers of her mind and came to terms with Finn’s sudden confession. She suddenly felt foolish that she had to prepare before coming back to him, and perhaps it would have been wise to stay away. 

“Ben? Can I come in?” Standing at the threshold, she had trapped herself in this suffocating and tight room. But she didn’t step any further without his permission.

In the corner of the room, the remains of what was presumably the small table sat swept into a pile of splinters and broken parts. The heavy tension had at least given way, but it was cold enough to leave her shivering had her frustration not been keeping her hot. 

He was keeping his thoughts locked away, too. 

Ben sat leaning against the back wall, legs outstretched and fumbling with a small object she couldn’t define at first glance. At least he didn’t seem angry, at least not at her. His discomfort of his room was still very much apparent, turning that conflicted gaze upon her, but he nodded. Subtle, but it was there.

“I’ve come to learn that I don’t get much choice as to who comes and goes in here.” He noted.

Slowly did he rise from his feet to greet her, the small round object placed inside of his pocket. And while his remark left a sour taste in her mouth, he seemed in higher spirits--if his body language and absence of any tantrum was enough to go by. “What are you doing here? I’m assuming you talked to your generals about the incident from this morning.”

“I talked to Finn.”

“And he turned a blind eye.” Ben assumed.

“He did.” Rey confirmed.

“I figured as much.”

Yelling at one another would get nowhere, she knew. So she let him speak, and didn’t ask him to clarify. “I haven’t told Poe yet, but he will believe it is self defense just the same.”

“And he will side with the resistance.” That mask of control slipped back through so seamlessly, and that part of him she thought was something so easily, and that part of him she feared would never change. 

“Maybe, but Poe is busy. Our story checked out, and we are cleared for the time being.” She felt the smallest waver within the connection that bridged them together--a lifeline, a pulse. Something jerked him back into his stare of caution, and she wanted to tell him that he did not have to stay so tightly coiled. 

But she would be hypocritical if she wasn’t ready to let go of her own defenses either. 

“I promised that we would go out today. It may be our last chance for a while.” And that was a harsh reality that she had to acknowledge. If Poe were to crack on his already tight security, her presence with him, was all one big possibility that further set her on edge.

“We could. I want to stretch my legs anyway.” 

She’d beaten him at every turn, even if he’d been refusing fatalistic tactics in every fight thus far. He’d held back, even if she hadn’t. Now they were given the chance of not holding back, without the presence of Snoke and Palpatine breathing down their necks. “If you’re up for a training session, I wouldn’t mind the exercise.” He offered, extending a hand.

A peace offering, bare daft fingers stretched toward her. Ungloved and nothing but that raw connection between them. Before, it had been a sign of Kylo Ren opening a part of himself to her. When he’d removed his helmet, and had touched her hand without a glove. As Ben, it was something so familiar, something that set her heart pounding. More so when he had _begged_ her to take it so many times before. All of those times she’d refused, but it was a moment when she had looked upon the face of the man she knew that she could _save._

“Your saber.” She excused, placing Leia’s weapon into the palm of his hand. The Skywalker saber felt much more at home with her anyway, and that was just another fragment of many that called on their connection to the Force, and reminded her that their lives were intertwined. 

While he seemed disappointed by the gesture, he didn’t say anything more. Clearing his throat, his eyes darted away and he put the saber on his belt and in that moment he felt much farther away than before. 

But she didn’t back down. 

“Loser has to apologize.”

Rey gave him a moment to gather his bearings before they were off again, kneeling down to R2-D2’s level who whistled curiously at their exit. “We will be back soon. He is allowed out with an escort, so please make Finn or Poe aware that we will be just over the ridge.” With a smile, she offered the droid a small thanks, and regardless of what Ben was _allowed_ to do, she was still cautious about checking their surroundings once they left the ship. 

Because of breakfast, it left the majority of the resistance confined to the mess hall and the remaining being a mere skeleton crew of those working and those who preferred to eat alone--part of her foolishly wondering whether there would be a day that Ben could sit amongst them as a friend and then she realized that was a child’s wish. Nobody turned an eye, at least nothing that bled the fact that they knew about the incident earlier before, but she was waiting for that judgement to be passed when they heard. 

But it only added to her negativity, feeling suddenly grateful that he had agreed to come with her, but also guilty because she felt as if she needed to hit something, something _real,_ and it would be much more satisfying than one of the levitating ball droids that she had to be careful with if she was going to use them more than once. 

The walk to the training course was brief, marked by a worn path disguised as a hunting trail--not that there was much to hunt on Crait. And she made a point to take the more jagged path if just to trip Ben up from the uneasy trail, taking careful consideration in not warning him about jagged cracks or holes that one could easily roll an ankle if they weren’t careful. For once, she had the one up, but he was also keen enough to watch her lead. 

Rey felt angry still, her anger having dulled but not nearly far enough to being committed in letting their confrontation go just yet. Someone would acknowledge it, and she had decided then that it would be him.

An uneasy silence settled once they approached the training grounds, everything living not intimidated by their presence, rather the tension they carried with them. The sun glared high over the ridge and she found herself already sweating. The training ground settled on a jagged cliff, overarching the rest of the world in a never-ending view of rock and sand, and reminding her of her time spent on Jakku. At least this time she wasn’t alone. 

What was training for Ben like she wondered? The brutality of having Snoke as a mentor was likely another scar ingrained into his mind, a harsh memory of being beaten for every failure or simple misstep. She wondered how primitive the grounds appeared in comparison to the places he had access to for his own training. Rey didn’t envy him for that, but it was almost embarrassing to introduce him to the old utilities and outdated, battered droids when he was used to so much more. 

Back then he’d had his own lightsaber too, and no matter how hard she tried it was forever ingrained into the very front of her mind. She didn’t ask, but glancing back to Ben, she knew that he was thinking about it too. “You know, your mother trained me. Not here, but she was always pushing me. Her and Luke.” 

“They always were like that.” Ben agreed. “At least, from what I can remember.” It sounded like he held that comment with a hidden malice, a slight twinge of jealousy as he walked past her to stand at the edge of the cliff. “They had the best intentions, but I was never going to see it. Not that it’s important now.”

Turning the saber over in his hand, he inspected it for what seemed like the hundredth time on their journey there. Passed through several generations of Skywalkers, she almost thought it a toying reminder of a moment he may never thought would have come.

“I am sure that your moments with them were more memorable, but without you I do not think that I would even remember their faces, their _voices._ At least my mother’s.” 

“You don’t remember them?” 

“It was another part of my humanity that I pushed away to make room for the dark side. I couldn’t forget my father, but he came to me before I went to find you on Exogol.” 

“As a force ghost?” Rey was stepping up to his side now, looking into his eyes, cast out at nothing, that echoing loneliness that begged for some sort of belonging.

“Just a memory.” He stepped away, bracing his saber in a clenched fist. “But you can show me what they taught you. Maybe they taught you better than me.” _That_ was spoken with a hint of taunting, a challenge, and also a distraction away from such a heavy topic. Still, she could see the emotion that holding the heirloom alone brought him. 

“I understand.” Rey crossed the circular clearing, kicking at rocks and dirt along the way. “Unfortunately, I still had much left to learn from Han,” The retort came so sharply, she couldn’t stop the words erupting from her lips, glaring across the clearing to where he stood working a tick underneath a clenched jaw. She unsheathed Luke’s lightsaber, and with one flick of a switch, it ignited with a _whoosh_ , a bright blue glow that glinted over the early dawn light. 

It thrummed with energy, attuning to her own untold power. Raking a narrowed gaze over Ben, the excitement that sparked inside of her was impossible to ignore; her newfound adrenaline. Every encounter before this, all clumsy and new, when he had once offered to teach her was a distant memory. Now, with a smirk coming alight to her face, she took a step forward planting her feet.

“I hope you’re ready to apologize.”

Ben’s hand tightened on his lightsaber, activating the switch as his own blade thrummed to life, glinting in the faint light and casting a shadow over her own. It didn't emit the same energy and power as the cross saber, but it looked at home all the same. “Alright,” He yielded, tone dropping an octave. “Loser apologizes.” He agreed, squaring his shoulders, holding the saber in one hand and planting his foot forward. Both stood incredibly still, muscles tense, sweeping their gazes over each other to assess who would make the first move. 

Rey’s own heart thrummed in her chest, picking up on the excitement of an actual fight. 

Sweeping a hand through the air, Ben cocked his eyebrows. “Ladies first.”

A sort of static crackled in the air between them. The moment shifted, changing and solidifying. Mentioning Han had tripped something in him, and before she may have immediately felt regret for doing such, but instead it fueled her chaotic emotions, and Rey wanted nothing more than to expunge them from her. She _wanted_ to be tired, wanted to need rest and to close her eyes and descend into sleep. If the exhaustion would distract her rampantly running mind, she would take it.

And if she could best Ben Solo, if to remind him that he was still human despite what he believed of himself, then it would be all the same. The blade of his mother’s saber did not crackle with the energy of the crossguard, but this was more measured, accurate, and stable in a way that promised every single blow would have a devastating outcome. They weren’t seeking to truly harm each other, but perhaps even if in just spirit, they had both marked their own wounds in the other. 

It was not an elegant dance of intention, but it held its own purpose. One that she was determined to win. 

Focusing on the way her grip felt so natural, she fell to Ben’s beckoning without hesitance. The moment between her next breath and heartbeat left little room for error, forcing herself to clear her mind and give access to the force for its guidance. Otherwise, any motion would be born of pure frustration, and that gave her opponent the upper hand. 

Rey charged anyway, closing the distance between them, kicking up rock and soil as she slid to a stop. Bringing the weapon upwards, she threw it down in a pale blue flurry of light until it connected. The meeting of their sabers thrummed a shock through her arms, rattling as she struggled to match his show of force. Settling the intensity of her gaze upon him, she teased over the crossing of their blades. “I’ll give you a moment to rehearse yours.”

Ben met the intensity of her stare, and a sudden pull through the force urged her back. All at once, he threw his saber to the side, knocking the point of their blades into the dirt, and the sharpness of his hip bone slammed into her side. It forced her back a few steps, spitting up dirt and debris that formed a small billowing cloud between them. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with a simple sorry. That way at least you don’t have to think too hard.” He taunted, twirling the saber in an expert hand, the _whoosh_ sounds permeating the air before coming to an abrupt stop. 

Once again, he held it forward, aimed it at her. This time it was with one hand, his free hand twitching at his side, channeling through the force. She could feel the crackle of its intensity underneath his palm. And he waited.

In comparison, her mind was much too loud, much too clouded with the fog of hurt and betrayal still wound tight by his earlier words, albeit nothing too crippling that she couldn’t parry his own swings, but not necessarily getting the one up on him either. The force of his swings were heavy and full of untouched power, giving her no other choice than to step back and take the hits against her saber full swing, feeling the vibrations up her arms shocking her into place.

They moved as they always did; her progression forward, his parry, their parting and returning to the other. A synchronized dance of two partners that knew the steps of the other, the thread strung taught when they parted and hummed with unbound energy when they grew closer. Rey fell into the motions with a practiced ease, the movements so natural, knowing him better in battle than she did in the calm still of their new lives--as calm of a life as they could have now, at least.

But she didn’t want _just_ that. Rey had wanted to explore Ben in all of his new depths, the darkness and the light that seemed to intertwine. She knew who he had been, who he could be, but not who he considered himself. And she wouldn’t shy from it whoever that may be.

Except she couldn’t think about that now if she was to keep up with him. Her physical strength would only carry her so far against someone who had the reach and the grace that Ben did. Fixating on him, she felt the electric charge of their sabers as they pushed against one another, him directing a blow downward, her holding her saber up to match it with both hands. An invisible force slammed against her abdomen, scrambling to catch her footing while their weapons sang with utter defiance.

Leaping back, Rey caught the twitching of his free hand again, and she mirrored his form, holding her own saber in a white knuckled grip, throwing her free hand outward to him. Conjuring, _begging_ the force to come to her aid, and with a quick flick of her wrist, she attempted to jerk his feet out from underneath him, but underestimated his weight only stumbling him slightly. The feel of his resistance was suffocating, pulling the recollection of how she had once embraced him upon Exogol while the world caved in on their heads. 

She rushed him again. 

Ben’s posture straightened, and as Rey threw the saber forth, it sailed just over his head as he ducked, barely catching a few strands of his dark hair. He threw the palm of his hand into her stomach, a pulse of energy, and a strong vibration threw her back, sending her spiraling into the rocky crags of the training grounds with scrapes that she was sure she would feel later. 

The saber was jerked from her hand, another flick of his wrist and it careened over the edge of the cliff to the rocky crags below. He rushed her, his tall, intimidating form looming over her crumpled form. The light of the saber was blinding, clouding the sudden seriousness of his expression. 

Throwing her palms up, the pressure of the force levitated between her hands and his blade, her teeth clenched hard, willing it back even as he pushed harder. 

In one fluent movement, she shoved one hand forward, throwing debris at his feet in order to throw him off balance, waiting for just the right moment to trip him up as her saber flew back over the cliff into the familiarness of her palm. 

She deactivated her saber and rotated it around, one hand still holding him back, the blade inching agonizingly close to her face. Without warning, she swung the hilt directly at his face.


	9. Stay (Ben)

Rey's thoughts were a miasma, choking Ben up and suffocating him all at the same time. He knew that she could sense him there, rifling through the inner workings of her mind in ways he hadn't meant to, but it was _intoxicating_ , and he fell to the temptation so easily.

It wasn't the right way to search for what he wanted. He knew that, and yet it mocked him. There had been a time where he had her bound and took great pleasure prying through her mind for the information that he wanted-how easy it had been to get despite her fighting him at every step.

Seeing her struggle did not give him any pleasure now. This was the part of him that Luke had first witnessed, the part that he recoiled from. _Feared._ The part that he learned to embrace as Kylo Ren, and while it would never be fully expunged from his blood, he could damn well try.

But this, this power drew him in, conjuring a heavy mixture of apprehension and excitement deep within him. _Raw._ Untouched power that was stripped down to the very bone, the manifestation of it laid in bare energy and dangling above him like meat.

Rey was looking at him, looking into the very deepest depths of his soul for something, laying below him as he drew his saber over his head and sent it crashing down over her head.

Her eyebrows suddenly furrowed, the saber flying back into her hand before an immense pressure collided with his face. Stars burst in his vision, tears spilling from the corner of his eyes as his balance was ripped out from beneath him. His breath left his lungs in a sudden heave, feet skidding the ground as he fought to grasp any footing.

It didn't work. Ben stumbled backward, his free hand coming up to clap against his skull. He swore in every language that he knew-and traveling around the galaxy as much as he had, it was a lot-the rather creative expletives muffled into his palm and spat out against the ground.

Rey however wasn't finished there. She turned her piercing gaze on him, her stance rigid and focused when she pushed herself to her feet. Electricity shot from her fingertips, piercing him straight in the chest. The vibrations shook his muscles with a vice grip, and he convulsed violently. It threw him on his back, a pounding ache in the center of his face and chest that had him rolling over onto his side, one hand grasped around his abdomen, the other pressed between his eyes.

_"Oh,_ " Ben moaned. " _By the force…_ " His voice rasped.

" _Caraya's soul,_ Ben!" Rey spat in outrage, and he could just barely see her expression falter through his fingers. She knelt next to him, gently pulling his hand back to inspect the damage, and by her sport of mild disgust, he safely assumed it looked just as bad as it felt. Her cheeks burned hot, both with unbridled fury and sheer embarrassment.

He felt that strongly enough.

"I'm sorry." Rey apologized. "I wasn't exactly ready for you to plunge your saber through my heart."

As soon the words left her lips, he felt an immediate twinge of regret. It had been a moment of pure adrenaline that had guided his actions-and a moment of irritation at her prodding for the contents of his mind while simultaneously mentioning the unfortunate demise of his father.

And the fact that he also owed her an apology.

And yet he couldn't find the words that would express any form of apology, even at the barest amount. There was too much to apologize for, and the list seemed to grow longer the further their relationship progressed.

"I didn't mean-"

"I know."

The twitching bleeding wound marked the bridge of his nose in the very center of his eyebrows. He was careful not to touch it, but it stung. Rey turned her head to the side, gently swiping a thumb over the wound, scarlet smearing her finger and wincing as if it hurt her.

Ben meanwhile attempted to find the words that would let her see through the deepest darkest corners of his mind. Another explanation in the long list that he owed, but also didn't have. "I'm not sure why I-"

"I don't-I don't think that it's our biggest concern now. We need to get this looked at, and make sure that you don't have a concussion or something worse." She smiled, managing that calm-even if concerned facade so easily, her eyes fixed on the spot between his eyes. Anything to not look at him directly.

"Let's go find Rose." Her words grazed over him, drifting off somewhere else. They barely penetrated the fog in her thoughts, something so thick that he couldn't see through.

It had been a gesture brought on by the combination of adrenaline and a heedless slip of control. An accident, he promised himself even as she withdrew completely, or rather had completely ripped herself back when the blow caused galaxies to bloom behind his eyes. The heaviness of her emotions was still palpable through the bond that required no further prodding. She had panicked, she'd been scared which had only slightly satiated him.

Her irritation was still above everything else that she'd been feeling in that exact moment, and he assumed that's why she hadn't thought twice about jabbing him in between the eyes and electrocuting him, knocked the breath from him, but nowhere near any sort of gesture that would have put him down for good.

Still, he felt her rip away from his thoughts just as quickly then, leaving the inner workings of his mind in an unmuted terror. The guilt further settled behind an unspoken meager apology, and there was no familiar feeling of the soft and bittersweetness of two people sharing a close connection being caught on opposite sides of a war.

There were no fireworks in the sky or any symbol or sign of closing that connection. Just raw emotion, as confusing and equally infuriating as their relationship as a whole. _Chaotic,_ like the ocean before a storm. Rough, but beautiful at the same time. It was enough to take his breath, or maybe that was just the blow from earlier.

Maybe he really did have a concussion.

With no other choice, he held out his hand, the saber flying from the dirt into the familiarness of his palm before being passed off to Rey who took it without complaint. The resistance would undoubtedly lose their minds as it was just seeing him out, let alone the fact that he was with their hero bleeding and unrestrained.

And for the moment considering, he wasn't ready to give them any reason to complain.

* * *

He let Rey guide him, feeling the warmth that radiated from her presence against his flank.

"You know that this means you owe me an apology." Rey finally spoke, her mind becoming more open as they continued back down the path, sheathing the sabers as if dismissing the itch to hit him again.

"I will apologize as many times as you want me to." Ben promised. "If that satisfies you, but I will remind you that you're the one that hit me in the face."

"Then I want twice of what we agreed upon." She smiled smugly, in some weird twisted way of a Jakku bargain he assumed. Always fair for one side, double negatives for the other. They ducked their heads beneath the stretch of an old tree that happened in their path, and she went as far as to hold the branch back but release it in the last second as it pelted back against his face.

It hit the bridge of his nose, but despite the painful twitch, the roaring ache in his arms and his tired legs added to the fresh throb of pain combining with the gash on his face, he did feel better. Nothing had been actually resolved on his end, but at least he had maintained a grip of control. Maintained his connection to the light, willed the dark away and hoped it didn't mix.

Rey knew where to find Rose, never straying far from the same general routine. It was only Ben's timbering height and notable gait that brought a hush over what bodies passed them by as opposed to an endless cycling of looking.

Their whispers didn't hide their thoughts either, and he knew that Rey could feel it too. His own head lowered to keep their assumptions at bay, to hide what had just transpired from them.

But they knew. It was obvious and he couldn't hide.

It followed him even when they found Rose in the med bay, tending to a data pad. At first, she didn't acknowledge them, only because she didn't actually see them.

"Rose, hey, do you—"

She looked up. " _Oh my stars,_ Rey, what happened?!"

_Rey socked me in the face when I allowed the remnants of Kylo Ren to take a hold of me,_ Ben answered to no one in particular, but the thought permeated to his companion if just to stoke out any guilt, only to realize that she didn't feel it at all.

Rey however flinched and he took that as evidence enough that she at least felt _something._

To both of their relief, Rose did not wait for an answer. Instead, she ushered the pair of them to the medbay within the Tantive IV.

The two moved along-Rey's hand wrapped around his waist for what he assumed was just in case. He kept his head low so as to not attract any more attention than he already had, their thoughts hitting him full force. Curious. Judging. Making their own assumptions and debating whether to kick him to the farthest reaches of the galaxy or shoot him down on the spot.

He couldn't decide which sounded better.

Their reactions hadn't gone lost on either of them, their concern emanating from Rey was not alarming, but it did urge him to separate from her and follow behind, silently reveling in the fact that he had been intelligent enough to give his saber back when he did.

If prompted, he would gladly take the blame, and the guilt from the entire situation hadn't quite gone away yet. It wouldn't. He'd allowed his emotions to get the better of him-again; had succumbed to the voice in the back of his mind that had told him that he could. It'd been without warning, a muscle reaction.

But she knew the very deepest corners of his mind in all of its dark places. His fears, his wants and desires, and something didn't settle well with the fact that he had likely opened more of it up to her during their training session in the clearing. She didn't say it, but he knew that she had witnessed something and while she didn't say it out loud, the thread crackling between them was enough to gouge that discomfort directly.

And he was still struggling to wrap his head around it.

The entirety of the last few days had felt like an unfortunate out of body experience. He could only have hoped for that much, the sting between his brows intensifying as they followed Rose to the medbay, not realizing the tenderness of it until she urged him to sit and dabbed at it with a damp cloth, his chin gripped firmly in her hand.

Calming down from his adrenaline, the aches and soreness stiffened his limbs and with a wince he shifted his weight, Rose unwavering in her patchwork even when he moved. Unlike Rose's stare, Rey didn't look at the wound, her eyes piercing him to his very core and he willed her to feel the annoying throb of her result of their sparring in turn.

She looked away.

"Can you two stop doing that weird mind stuff for a minute while I finish this?" Rose murmured through her unyielding concentration, grabbing a bottle of clear fluid and a package of fresh swabbing gauze. "Anyway…" She trailed off. He could feel the concern and curiosity radiating off of her so strongly, enough to make him sit a little taller.

"I got a bit too into training this morning." Rey was the first to admit. Not a lie, just a half truth, vague enough to abstain from any incriminating details but with an honest enough satisfaction.

"That's an understatement." Ben mumbled.

"So did Ben." She added. "It was just a silly accident." Then she smiled-albeit a bit forced. Sheepish and awkward.

Rose only nodded curtly. He suspected that she knew, but perhaps for their sake she chose to keep it to herself. "Well, it doesn't look deep. It might be sore for a couple days though so he can avoid another scar at least." She went on to acknowledge Rey more casually, looking over her shoulder as Rey straightened, her eyes flicking from him to her friend. "If he starts acting weird, just bring him back."

_A concussion it is, then?_ Her expression seemed to say, smiling at him and dimpling one of her dirt smudged cheeks.

Rose seemingly missed it. Again, he suspected she merely pretended to be oblivious to their silent connection. "Take it easy for the rest of the day. Avoid any strenuous activity, and that's it, I think." She finished, cleaning up the cut, backing away.

Ben could already feel the bruising at the bridge of his nose, threatening to spill underneath his eyes.

"And I don't want to pry, because I'm not entirely sure what happened…"

And there they go.

"But are you two okay? You know, I heard about what happened this morning."

He stiffened at the mention of the attempt on his life-one that resulted in him nearly killing a child and facing the realization that he had a permanent tether to the dark side. No matter how much light he held, it overshadowed it by the barest amount. It always would.

Rey cleared her throat, and before he could speak she cut in while the other woman trimmed a thin, clear film-like material to match the length of the laceration, applying it gently along the reddened borders of the injury and holding it there. "We'll be fine. Thank you, Rose."

Rose nodded, forcing a smile of her own as she straightened and began packing her medical supplies away. Her voice stretched to Ben this time. "I know that it's been a difficult adjustment for you, and none of this has gotten any easier but we'll get farther if we work together than fighting."

The words resonated in the silence between them, Rose shifting, working more to say around the inside of her jaw, eyes darting around the room before finally meeting his own. Unflinching. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that not everyone is uneasy with you being here." She finished, resting one hand on her hip, the other clutching the med kit tightly. "You guys should grab some lunch. Finn and some of the others left for Pasaana earlier after everything happened so there will be extra portions. Doesn't happen often so I'd take advantage of it."

Their more level-headed general had gone? But why?

He cast one glance at Rey, and she looked away, closed her mind off to him.

"I'll keep an eye on him." She assured.

Not that it would be hard. From the confines of his cell anyway.

"It will be hard for the resistance to accept what happened between them and the First Order. Everything that I did." Ben admitted, and it was a truth that he had learned to accept when he had decided to come back "home" in the first place. It wasn't his home anymore, but he remembered that he didn't define home as a place. Never had.

He looked at reality as it was, rather than as it should've been. "I'm not an enemy of the resistance anymore. I'm tolerated, and while I understand the gesture, I know where I stand amongst your ranks." A charged atmosphere, cackling in the air, something fogging his thoughts and demanding his attention. It yanked his concentration around and demanded it to focus on something other than Rose's defeated expression, Rey's disappointed stare. He mulled them over, but reminded himself that while they hoped, he knew the reality of his situation well enough.

Ben had lost control, and while he had understood their unwillingness to trust Kylo Ren, he couldn't exactly blame them as Ben Solo either. But he shoved it down, buried it under a grave of thoughts that he hoped wouldn't see the light of day again. The list was growing. Too long. But he caught the barest trace of the two girls exchanging a glance, their one sided optimism shrouded by Ben's logic.

"Thank you again," Rey acknowledged, holding out a hand to Ben for him to stand, and he did. Her fingers twined through his so easily, and Rose did not so much as bat an eye at the display. "I owe you."

"We're friends." Rose reminded her, a warm smile tugging so seamlessly at her lips. "And also on the same team, but you can make it up to me later." She chuckled around a playful wink.

They slipped from the medbay, leaving her to reorganize and restock on what had been used. The halls of the Tantive IV were eerily quiet, their footsteps echoing as they strolled out of earshot from everyone else, hand in hand. He just barely caught Rey outside of his peripherals, cocking her head, her eyes exposing nothing more than sincerity, choosing her next words very carefully he assumed. When she spoke however, she sounded exasperated. "By the Force, Ben. Take a slight of kindness for once. Friends would get you along much better here."

But he knew in what he had said to Rose, knew his place, knew who he was to the resistance. It had become painstakingly clear as soon as he had stepped foot outside the x-wing. Considering his new quarters, his guards, his escorts, the assassin, everyone else seemed intent on making sure he didn't forget that as well.

Nothing he could do would ever wash away the blood of who he once was. He could offer them a show of what redeemable qualities he had, and he could let the past die, but it was only a matter of who would let him try.

Someone. Not many, but _one._

And if the resistance would prove to be a constant memory of who he could never afford to be again, he'd take it if just to remember.

He hoped.

"This isn't about acknowledging any kindness. Your friend, Rose, knows that you and I share a…" Ben hesitated, reminding himself he hadn't necessarily put a title on what they were. Previous enemy, now a trusted ally, a friend, or… _something_? "A connection. I think that she as well as the resistance are being as kind as they are only because of that." His hand slipped from her own, a gesture he felt much needed in case he were to be the subject of any backlash on her behalf. More than he had been "I know what you're trying to do, but the resistance will never mean as much to me as it does to you."

Truthfully at this point he could consider it a real pain in his ass instead. "I guess I'm just wondering how much they'll be able to look away for you."

Rey stopped, and he followed suit. It was just them. Otherwise the halls were empty. Their voices echoed. Despite that he felt the divide between them widen in the hall, or maybe he just never realized that it was there, or he ignored it to toe around the edge of whatever stood between them. But it became painstakingly clear and forced him to acknowledge it.

Nothing felt to be going right. Why did he follow her back to the resistance base? They wouldn't accept him with open arms-and he knew that. All over Rey's words from a Force ghost? He really was a fool.

Her features softened in visible dejection as her eyes searched his face. "The resistance trusts me, or they wouldn't have allowed you to stay. It's not just pity." All at once she looked away, her fingers curling at her sides into loose fists. "I think that maybe I've been trying too hard to fit in. I came back and pretended like everything was normal. Tried to find somewhere for you in all of this." She lowered her voice to a bare whisper. "Perhaps it was selfish. I don't know."

"Rey-"

"I just want-" Her voice pitched in a stifled desperation, and while he was normally the one able to maintain a tightened control, he could see her trying.

She was trying really hard.

_For you to want to stay._


	10. With You (Rey)

_For you to want to stay._

Rey had whispered through the connection between them, the words not something she could voice aloud--not bravely. That feeling rooted her to him, and she wondered how much of it had influenced her decisions thus far, how much arguing she had done with the resistance to keep him nearby. 

It’d been a lot, and yet she didn’t feel as if she had made any progress. He was still their enemy and no amount of begging and pleading could waver their opinion--at least not yet. She only hoped that Ben would stay if just to see it. See that Ben Solo did have a life somewhere, had been given a second chance like so many others. 

Like her. 

They would trust him, eventually. 

She nodded down the corridor, gesturing that they move out view and away from wandering ears. While she didn’t reach for his hand this time, her fingers did curl against her palms into loose fists instead.

As expected and with what was almost obedience, he trailed after her down the corridor into a secluded corner. While similar to the one she had shared with Finn earlier, the exception was that both were equally private conversations, but meant a great difference whereas the resistance was concerned.

His hand subconsciously reached for hers, but she had folded them in front of her instead. Dejectedly, that same hand returned to his side, fingers twitching for a comfort that wasn’t there, and a small pang of guilt pricked at her instead.

The two of them slid into the small cramped corner to hide, obscured from view. Ben leaned into it, and Rey cleared her throat. 

“I mean that I would like for you to stay. I’d like for the resistance to see you as I do. The real you; free from control.” She ducked her head, eyes gently grazing over his chest, flickering down to the bare _centimetres_ of space between them. “I just want them to trust you like I do. I want you to trust me and know that I didn’t mean for any of this.”

“I trust you.” The affirmation felt right, a revelation that she hoped that he had confirmed even in his days as Kylo Ren. That he always _knew,_ even if they were on opposite sides. He had yielded every fight, had allowed her to pierce him through on the remnants of the Death Star. She was a weakness that he couldn’t really let go. “And I know where my place is in the resistance.” 

“You do?” She slowly looked up, just to see him in their small secluded corner, standing so _close_ , hovering just above her. His head dipped to meet her eyes, gaze lingering just below her nose and back up again, as if he were mulling over a possibility, a _want_ that he couldn’t bring himself to explore. 

“With you,” Ben finished. “I don’t want to stay with the resistance, but I want to stay with you. That’s why I followed you back here. _Why_ I am still here.” Deft fingertips gently brushed over her fist, and she opened her hand to meet it. 

Rey had been a scavenger from Jakku the days before Kylo Ren. Nobody of importance. A lost child waiting for parents who would never come. 

Hopeless. 

Had it not been for BB-8 happening upon her life and Finn quite literally crashing into it, she would not have become involved in things much greater than her, would not have been led to right here and right now, and she would be a nobody; still sitting on Jakku digging around the skeletal remains of ancient ships, watching the sun rise and set beyond the horizon. Still waiting, and never coming any closer, adding yet another notch into the wall that mocked her with an ever growing number of tallied days.

So many days wasted.

So many days still going by. 

Days that felt a lifetime ago compared to how quickly they passed now. 

While the resistance had given her a place, Kylo Ren had given her a purpose. He unlocked the very roots of her strength, her courage to do what was needed--the all consuming and persistent part of her life whether in his struggle in his own darkness or clawing toward the light. It would be foolish to deny that they had been through a lot, and he’d come to know every part of her--the ugly truths and the very corners of her deepest fears. Except he’d never turned away.

Ben Solo had become the very home that she’d sought for her entire life, and standing so close now, it was difficult to spend any more time running from her feelings. When he’d stood with her against Palpatine, there had been more worth fighting for. When he had brought her back alive from the In-Between, there was more left to live for. Abandoning him just wasn’t an option. 

The force did not have to show her the way to know that. Every single time, the choice would be clear. Ben or the resistance, even if the very end of the stars came into balance. 

Her thoughts were unbridled and running rampant, her hands trembled as they crashed through the floodgates of her mind and passed to him. She barely felt the graze of their fingertips until they thrummed against her senses, suddenly hypersensitive and drowning out the pounding of her own heart. 

The gentle brush of his fingers against the back of her hand made hers turn over to meet his on instinct, their palms pressed together, the feeling of rejection from moments ago dissolved almost instantly. 

And whether it was the cloudiness in her head or the effect that his proximity had on her, Rey braced herself against the cool bite of the ship’s wall behind her against her back, his towering form over her, his stare sweeping over her so thoroughly.

“I just want you to have a home, too.” She admitted, almost inaudibly. 

“Home isn’t a place, Rey.” Ben murmured in response. “Wherever you go, I go if you willed it to be.”

“Wherever I go, I want you with me too.” Their fingers laced together, hers fitting in between his so perfectly, held up beside them but only for the two of them to see. 

Ben pulled his hand away from hers, instead with the most gentle touch brought it to her face. He ran his thumb across her cheek “I still owe you an apology.”

“You do.”

And he smiled, both corners of his mouth upturned in the barest trace of happiness that Ben could ever bestow in front of someone. Dark brown pools showed the inner workings of his emotions, that _want_ , that approximation of happiness that he so desperately grasped for. The pounding of his heart, the raw emotion that spilled through the thread that connected them and practically begged him to unleash it all. A part of him that had been clouded by the dark side and the First Order.

In the tight confines of the corner, he closed what little distance between them remained. Rey soaked in the light--that warmth that set the thread between them on fire. In the caves of Exogol, she had made the first move--something that she still hadn’t made complete sense of--but this moment felt _right._

Rey searched his face, relishing in the heat that flowed to her her just from his palm against her cheek. The eyes that looked at her now were nothing like Kylo Ren. Something stirred within them, alive and hopeful and when his mouth ghosted with the faintest hint of a smile, her heart pounded against her ribs. She was certain that she could hear the echo of it around them, filling what remained of the empty space.

There had been more emotion in that beat of a second than Rey had ever witnessed from him before. It was much more raw than the way he looked at her upon the elevator that fateful moment leading up to Snoke’s demise. It was as fearful as it had been afterwards, when he had extended his hand to her for the first time, and as fearful as when she’d plunged a lightsaber through him in a fit of anger. She remembered seeing his relief when she took her first gasping breath of life in the Sith cavern, but there hadn’t been enough time to marvel at the visible change in him then. 

Even now, there wasn’t enough time, but Rey stole the moment anyway for what it was worth. The biting of the wall against her back had been the last coherent thing that she could focus on. Their bodies fit in a way that whispered the universe’s intentions for them--that they had been crafted for one another, one pair born within the stars, over an imploding nebula, across one opposing galaxy that manifested and conjured through time and space by the Force aiming for perfection. A Dyad, as they were.

There was urgency, but not like she felt during their practice session at the training course. She reacted recklessly then, but now there was only desperation, a primal response to something that she didn’t realize how badly she wanted until now. She held onto him as if he were a lifeline, and he was. 

His pulse echoed rapidly against her own, that connection between them more tangible than ever. She held onto him as if she could keep together all of his broken pieces. The idea of love was an abstract concept. Rey loved many things like the rain, seas of greenery, the feeling in her stomach when she lurched in and out of hyperspace, a warm meal not made up of old rations. 

But she also loved the way her heart swelled in her chest in Ben’s presence. How when she took his hand for the first time, every atom in her body quaked with recognition. Now, more than ever, she was sure everything about Ben was better than rain, better than the first time she breathed air that didn’t belong to the desert.

Leaning forward, her forehead pressed to his, closing her eyes if just to breathe him in. “I’ve given you enough time to rehearse it.” She whispered with a breathless laugh, looking up to admire the softness in his typically stoic features. She seared the image into her brain and held it there.

“Rey--” Ben began.

A low, exaggerated whistle resounded from behind Ben. It pulled Rey straight, her hands snaking down to her side, peeking around him and recognizing the orange and white BB-series droid. Before she could acknowledge him, he was already rolling towards Ben with his arc welding arm aimed and ready. “BB-8, no! It’s okay!” She managed to halt the orbital assailant before he could zap Ben at the ankles. 

BB-8 halted, swiveling his head curiously, a few slight inquisitive beeps up at them. 

“We were… uh…” Rey fumbled for an answer to his curiosity, stealing a glance up at Ben. “Inspecting the corner.” She finished lamely. 

Rey did not miss the huff of a stifled laugh that caught itself in Ben’s throat. Not once, but twice did she see the ghost of a smile take those lips for its own. _Stars,_ she could look at his face for hours, she thought to herself. Thought to him. It seemed that the tether that bridged their minds was more tangible now, new emotions searing her veins. Of course she would keep her mind open and connected to his, his emotions as fluid as her own but more profound than before.

It left her with enough to make her tremble both with a fear and reassurance much too great for her small frame. At least he made no remark about their actual intentions, but he did take one step away from Rey in order to create a much needed distance--but still a distance that she didn’t want. 

With a mere nod in greeting to the BB-8 droid, he moved closer to the wall. “We were done.” Ben conceded, casting one look in Rey's direction before stepping out of the safety of their corner, making a wide arc around the little droid. The halls were empty, and there was nobody to make their assumptions aside from BB-8 who clearly had some idea himself. 

Heart thrumming in her chest, she took a moment to collect her thoughts. A spark of hope flickered inside of her chest, pulling a thread and for a moment she wondered if it would somehow unwind and ruin this moment. 

She only silently begged that it wouldn’t.

He had moved aside, giving her the space she needed in order to find her composure in the open air of the hallway. Her mind and body still hummed with its missed opportunities, and she had to fight to maintain focus on the droid that folded its weaponized arm and addressed her again, though still watching Ben, expression still judgmental despite not having a face.

BB-8 seemed to be more expressive than Ben at times.

He beeped and whirred a series of explanations that made Rey furrow her brows. “Conditioning? What for?” Her voice pitched with agitation. 

BB-8 chirped.

“Resistance protocol. Because of what happened this morning.” She confirmed. Of course, she’d been confirmed to have _been_ there, even if she hadn’t, not until it was over. Her tone fell flat, the moment passing much too quickly, reminding her of the actual stress of what was current rather than what she wished their reality could be. Shaking her head, tendrils of loose hair fell in her face. “Tell Poe I will meet with him shortly, please.”

BB-8 hummed in response, and rather than take a wide berth around them, he rolled straight over Ben’s feet instead making a point to express his indifference before he was gone, meandering along to whatever he intended to do next. Rey turned her focus on Ben again who had winced, the moment once again feeling marred by her responsibilities to the resistance. “Looks like we will have to continue this later.” She wrinkled her nose.

It was a typical assessment, and truthfully she was probably over-due considering everything that had happened in the last few days, but the timing was for a lack of a better word, inconvenient. But it always would be. Any moment that forced her apart from Ben was one that she could do without, she decided.

"I'll see you after conditioning." Since taking a dip in the Bafta tank, his pain tolerance seemed somewhat more stimulated than before, but BB-8 definitely weighed more than he looked. 

Noticeably they hadn't offered the same assessment for him, but considering his previous history she could understand their hesitation. Taking lives before had meant nothing to him, and while he held his own morals, she knew if it came down to himself, Rey, or whoever was unfortunate enough to stand in their way, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate.

Ben took his place at her side in the direction of his quarters. There was no way that he would so simply be left alone, especially without any type of escort. Especially not after the supposed assassination attempt that left one of the resistance likely traumatized. Their whispering could be heard now, their judgement that this was no doubt caused by the infamous Kylo Ren who had actually been sound asleep and unknowing that someone was making an attempt on his life. 

If not for her, he’d likely be dead by now. "I'm sure it will go well. Honestly, I don't think much of our day can go any worse." He scoffed, his hands snaking inside of his pockets so that she couldn't see just how much he was twitching, but she knew.

Lunch was out of the question. Being around people still felt demoralizing and more of a strain than it was worth. Rey could sense their displeasure over the thrumming of the Force if she reached out. She certainly did not want to subject either of them to having to endure that in a clustered group like the mess hall. And she also didn’t want to further agitate Poe if she could help it.

With Finn’s departure, the co-general was especially neurotic as he worked to handle running the base with a bare skeleton crew. It wasn’t that she had been looking forward to conditioning--who necessarily would, but she couldn’t wait to get it over with — and to find out where she truly stood within their ranks. A hero, she assumed, but how much had that been damaged after her more recent choices?

Finn wasn’t there to save them, but she trusted he had soothed the tension and the insecurities that she could feel within the walls of the base. Try as she might to tell herself these small assurances, she could not help but feel the pressing weight of something ominous settle within her. Like standing on a plateau and awaiting the break of _something_ beyond the horizon. 

Ben’s quarters were, regretfully, not far away. Rey wanted to buy them more time, or to steal enough of it to assure them both, but it wasn’t plausible. Reminding herself again that it was best to not leave Poe waiting, she did stall briefly outside the durasteel door that encased his room beyond. 

R2-D2 politely swiveled his head away after a beeping recognition of their forms at the cell. “I don’t think our day was ruined for the worse,” she replied after a stretch of silence, mulling over his words. 

It hadn’t started off as well as it could have with the intruder, and growing worse with their argument, to their botched sparring attempt, and then being caught up in that moment had made her react foolishly. All of it felt redeemed in the hallway, she confirmed within herself. As much as she had wanted to--

Rey felt her cheeks prickle with heat, the hint of a blush spilling down her neck as she cleared her throat and averted her eyes to the floor between them long enough to _think_ and _focus._ Now wasn’t the time to dwell, as much as she wished she could.

 _Conditioning, the truth serum, invasive probing, and repetitive questioning,_ she recited the annoyances she would soon face. It was a welcoming distraction from now, from Ben.

“I will come back later. If you want me to, of course,” she didn’t know how to say goodbye. The last time she truly had to part from him had been on drastically different terms. Since then, the very idea left her cold. With this promise between them, she reached out to touch his arm, feeling the tension of his twitching fingers buried in his pockets. 

Then, with a tight-lipped smile over her still dirt-smudged cheeks, she ordered R2 to send for lunch and requested supplies for his refresher and cot. After, and with great reluctance, did she part from him as the steel door parted open to usher Ben inside.


	11. Truth

“Do you love him?” Rey’s thoughts were foggy as the serum surged through her veins. It filled her with a warmth that loosened her tongue and her thoughts all at once, urging her to spill them to the two positioned directly in front of her. Of course she had expected it to do just _that_ , she just hadn’t imagined the extent of the means of what it could have been used _for._

Regardless of the serum’s presence, heavy and distorting, forcing her to blink furiously to maintain some semblance of cohesive thought, she still hesitated to answer their questions. “How is that relevant to--” 

“Rey, this will go much quicker if you comply,” Poe interrupted before nodding to the resistance member at his side, a notable figure in the room that she didn’t recognize but who wore enough medals and ribbons that practically screamed accomplishment and authority at the breast of her uniform. 

Rey thought that she was glaring at Poe now, felt the slightest pinch in her brows, but her eyes slowly drifted upward, rolling without constraints into the back of her head. She blinked, shook her head, a small grunt of frustration escaping her as the inner workings of her mind became more muddled. 

“Continue,” Poe’s voice blurred among everything else, crouched down beside whom Rey had decided earlier was an interrogator, she herself sitting stiff in a metal chair, worn and creaking with every shift. No amount of squirming in it granted her any reprieve, but it proved to be a welcome distraction, something that she could easily focus on. Something that would divert her from their pressing insistence instead. 

The interrogator--that definitely sounded more appropriate--cleared her throat and repeated the question. “Do you have any _compromising feelings_ for the former Supreme Leader of the First Order, our enemy, and currently, our captive _guest_ , Kylo Ren?”

Rey hummed. 

“Would these feelings otherwise cloud your judgement or cause you to act irrationally?” She went on. 

“His name... is Ben... Solo.” Rey blinked again, squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head as she descended further into her disoriented state.

“Rey, I just need you to answer the questions that I have laid out for you.” The interrogator advised. Gentle, but unsympathetic. “Otherwise I will have to make my own assumptions. Can you do that?” 

Slowly, her eyes drifted to the holographic data panels on the other side of the room, showing nothing relative to what they were asking her now, just various graphs and map data that pinpointed possible locations. Locations for what she assumed would serve as the resistance’s new home base. Ajan Kloss, she couldn’t exactly tell. 

“Rey, are you listening? I need you to describe your relationship with Ben Solo to us.” 

And Rey laughed at that as she turned her head back. It wasn’t a friendly laugh, but one that practically screamed “unbelievable” without her having to say it herself; underlining the very definition of condescending. “I don’t know.” She mumbled, leaning her head back, then lifting up all at once. “I don’t know what you are asking me.”

Poe’s back was turned to the door as he hovered nearby, turning in one spot, watching her with anticipation. He wanted to know just as badly, wanted to hear the confession of what everyone assumed from her lips personally. 

She couldn’t do it; couldn’t give them that satisfaction. If not to just protect her, then to at least protect Ben too. 

The serum however was making that increasingly more difficult. 

In the small secluded room on the Tantive IV, the quirky comforting demeanor that Poe seemed to so easily carry around was lost in a moment and replaced with something else. Something much less reassuring than what he had been thus far. His brows took on a slight arch, drawn, looking into her as far as her medicated induced state could see. 

Searching.

_Prying._

He pushed the flaps of his jacket aside, perched his hands against his hips. “What’s your name?” 

“Rey.”

“Rey, who?”

“Just Rey.” She answered with a heavy huff, her hardened gaze faltering as she squinted against the heavy torchlight that suddenly flashed in her eyes. “Can you get that out of my face, please?” 

“Poe, I’ve got this.” The interrogator assured him gently, pushing the torchlight into the ground and only with great reluctance did he finally back off, but not without a huff of indignation in turn. “Were you in the room with Kylo--”

“ _Ben._ ”

“Ben Solo,” She corrected herself pausing to look over Rey critically, “At approximately 2:15 a.m.?” Any form of concern was noticeably absent from her otherwise dry tone, hunched over in what looked to be a more comfortable chair--Rey had to notice as hers was still rubbing uncomfortably against her back--hands clasped together. 

“Yes,” Rey answered. “But no. I mean--”

“So you were in the room during the initial attack?” The woman dipped her chin, scrutinizing her expression with a sudden interest. A seeping satisfaction in the fact that she had caught her in what was almost a lie. Almost. 

“I walked in after the attack had happened.” Every word was spoken with practiced restraint. Every confession only sinking Ben further into a hole that he wouldn’t be able to crawl out of this time. 

“So you confirm that you did not see the exchange between the resistance member and Ben Solo until _after_?” Her tone was firm, but skeptical. 

“I saw that the resistance member was unharmed.” 

“But did you see the resistance member attack Ben Solo?”

“I didn’t.” That much she could at least say was the truth. 

“This is a waste of time.” Poe grunted behind them, sucking in his teeth. “The kid won’t say what happened--”

“We just got started.” The interrogator reminded him with a soft _hush._ “We found the pieces of the droid, and all that was salvaged was the audio. We need to do this if we want to learn what exactly _happened_.”

“Come on Rey,” Poe urged, attempting to meet her line of sight that had squandered off at some obscure point on the other side of the room. “He will be facing attempted murder if you don’t give us _something_.” 

Something that would paint him out as the villain, she knew.

But she didn’t want them to see her eyes, didn’t want them to be able to read what they wanted from her face. But she assumed they _knew_ or at least had some idea of what they wanted to hear. That Ben was a murderer, that without her presence in the room, he may have just killed that kid.

Rey didn’t believe that. 

She sat up a little taller, taking back a posture that assumed confidence, but not matching the groggy, heavy awkwardness that she actually felt. Her head whipped to look past the interrogator, locked onto Poe with an undenying determination. “It was self defense.”

“You were not in the room when the attack happened.” The interrogator reminded her. “We heard Ben Solo threaten him. He very clearly told him in his own voice that he could _kill_ him, and stated that he was no different from a common murderer that could do it correctly if I recall.”

“I do know that the child walked into _his cell_ that was locked and _threatened him_ with a blaster. He shot first.” Rey shot back. “There are indentations in the wall and I am sure it is in your audio if you want proof that isn’t otherwise obvious.” 

“And how do we know that your Jedi mind tricks were not somehow involved in the event?” The interrogator leaned forward, pressuring glare coming through slits. 

Even in her current state, Rey scoffed at the display and looked at her. Looked into the very deepest part of her being, a switch flipped or perhaps something dark stirring underneath all of the light inside of her and casting a shadow across the wall. She had other things to be worried about, other _people_ to be worried about, and that did not include sitting there and answering pointless questions when she could hardly think straight.

How many pieces of Ben’s reputation would she have to pick up after this? How much would she have to sacrifice if she couldn’t convince them?

Dread settled deep within her, her nails digging against her forearms, her stomach in knots and the loud thrum of her heartbeat raging in her ears, rattling the inside of her skull. Each pulse struck her as loud and as violent as thunder, riding out the storm raging through her very disgruntled being. 

The interrogator’s lethal glare pierced through her, noticeably growing impatient. “If you do not comply, there will be _nothing_ that we can do to protect him. Word will pass through the resistance.” Her warning came like a crack of thunder, and in truth it only made Rey more angry. 

“The wrong word I am sure.” She bit back, squinting as the world shifted unnaturally one way. The figures of her newfound parasite and Poe tilted and merged together briefly.

If the situation hadn’t been so dire, she may have just laughed at her own misfortune in some strange state of denial mixed with whatever it was that she felt now. 

May have.

But she was already biting against her cage, and their insistence that Ben was somehow in the wrong only drove her deeper into her hazed fury, absent of any meager attempts at maintaining a semblance of calm. “Ben Solo was _attacked._ He defended himself and both are still standing here now. It was an altercation that could have been prevented if he had just been left _alone._ ” 

Rey held a lot of internalized frustration. Too much of it. Enough that she didn’t think was possible just coming from her, and silently she wondered if any of Ben’s own frustration was passing through the thread to her as well. Allowing her to feel his insecurities that so easily blended with her own that she couldn’t tell them apart. 

She didn’t know that for sure, but she knew that he wasn’t ignorant enough that he couldn’t piece together what she had been called here _for._ Every bit of her emotions rolled to him, unable to find the ability to block him out as she could before. Maybe it was the serum pricking and tugging at the inside of her mind and laying her insides out for everyone to see, or maybe it was her own insistence at letting him know that she held a faith in him. That she knew he was not going to be painted the villain this time. 

At least, not by her. 

“What were your original intentions for lying about your involvement in the incident?”

“I knew that if I had claimed an involvement, then you would not be as adamant about finding someone to blame.” And Rey didn’t need any truth serum to tell them that. A small laugh danced within the words, mouth pulled back into a dry smile. “If I was accused of attempted murder, I imagine this entire incident would be swept underneath a rug, wouldn’t it?”

“We’re just looking after your well-being as well as the resistance.” Poe piped up. “We don’t want to see him drag you down with him. And he will.” 

“Where is Finn?” Rey inquired suddenly, head swiveling around the room with a drowsiness very unlike her. Her eyelids fluttered, but she attempted to maintain a serious expression. It was more likely that she looked like she’d had enough to drink. She felt like she had. “Does he know that you were going to drug me just to ask me questions about Ben?”

“Rey--” Poe started.

“You know, frankly I think I like him better than you right now.” She was rambling, and she couldn’t stop herself now. Her hands perched on her knees, pushing herself into a standing position. The chair grinded against the floor, metal against metal and the screech that followed sent her head spinning. 

Poe held out his hands, but Rey was quick to slap him away, albeit fumbling before their hands finally connected. Clumsy, but she met her mark.

“ _I_ killed Kylo Ren.” Rey repeated for the umpteenth time. 

Was it _really_ Ben? Sometimes she swore she could still see Kylo under the surface but things weren’t as black and white as she’d like for them to be, and they never could. Kylo Ren was dead, Ben Solo was alive, but just like Rey would always be a Palpatine, Ben would carry the burden of Kylo Ren's crimes for the rest of his life.

The resistance constantly reminding him of that was unacceptable.

Perhaps it was naive of her to think otherwise, perhaps it had been naive of her to expect and hope that the Resistance would play fairly, but Rey was tired. So tired of fighting one war after the other, against enemies and friends; family.

"Kylo Ren is dead," she proclaimed and met every word with a startling conviction, brows drawn; hands clenched at her sides and dug into her palms. Something else to keep her distracted, but grounded. "The Resistance is punishing an innocent man for crimes he’s already repented for."

It wasn't as simple as that, and it never would be, but she didn't care.

“That man that you have locked up here is not the same. I understand your hesitance to trust him, but by the Force, expel him if you can’t make up your mind of what to do with him.” She rounded on Poe, jabbing a finger into his shoulder as sharply as a knife. 

Rey swayed, and the interrogator’s hand connected with her forearm in a viselike grip. She wrenched it away, batting it away to make her point all the more clear. They were studying her, a shattered individual struggling to grasp for something to keep her afloat. Keep them both afloat. 

“Do not touch me,” She hissed through clenched teeth. “I don’t like being touched.”

“We know how you feel about Ben,” Poe said at last, more gentle, more reassuring.

But he didn’t know.

Even now Ben had an ominous look about him, one that shouldn’t have been as exhilarating as it was, and she shouldn’t h _a_ ve _enjoyed_ watching his journey from the dark side to the light. In the caves of Exogol when he showed her such raw, unrefined emotion for the first time…

She’d been mesmerized. Attracted to that danger in his eyes, and that strength that towered over her so easily but the pure fact that he never realized he did it every single time. It’d been refreshing watching his panic dissolve when she came back to life for what was likely the last time, that stillness in his shuddering pupils, the quivering of his lips when they kissed for the first time, and he’d come back from his nightmare. Rey had pulled him back from crashing into a harsh reality. 

Harsher than what made up his reality now. 

“But our job is to look after our own. That includes you.” Poe tried to reason.

“That includes Ben,” Rey quipped. “He was a bigger part of the resistance before he was walking. He was misguided, and Leia would be _ashamed_ if she saw how you were treating him now.”

“ _Don’t_ bring Leia into this.” Poe bristled, ran his fingers through his hair, down his face. “You’re looking at him like all of the _shit_ he stirred up should just be forgotten because he had a sudden change of heart. He didn’t have any remorse when he killed so many of our numbers, none when he stabbed Han through. He was ready to kill Luke, kill _you_ , and you’re asking the resistance to let him walk among them like an old friend? Do you hear yourself?” 

“Poe--” The interrogator prodded gently, laying a hand on his forearm, but he was furious, practically spitting out his disgust. 

Hearing it out loud, Rey understood and couldn’t blame him, but she was set in her ways, and too stubborn to so easily conform to his idea. “I just want the resistance to give him a chance to prove himself.” She pleaded.

“And when he doesn’t get into a fight with our recruits and doesn’t threaten to bring the roof down on our heads, then we’ll talk. Until then, the tally is mostly on our side. If it comes down to him, or us, we’re not going to keep turning a blind eye because of your belief that he’s changed.” With a snarl of his lip, and a defeated nod of his head--a signal that he had given up arguing with her about it, his head turned to the woman at his left.

The only thing saving Ben right now was the fact that he was Leia’s son and Rey being unrelenting about the fact that he _wasn’t_ the enemy they knew. Poe didn’t care about Ben, likely reminded of his brutal interrogation and the last recollection being Finn distraught on Kef Bir when Rey had thrown him away from where the two had been _fighting._

They had been enemies once. Not anymore. 

“You were a spice runner.” Rey reminded him. “Finn was a stormtrooper, and I was  _ nothing. _ She gave us all a chance.” She was grasping at straws now, but they would both be damned if she didn’t at least  _ try.  _ “We’ve finished Leia’s mission which was stopping the First Order. I was dead. Ben gave me my second chance, and all I am asking is for you to let me pay it forward.  _ Help  _ me pay it forward.”

Running his hand through disheveled, almost _tired_ curls, Poe pulled up a chair in front of Rey, plopped down into the seat. When he leaned forward, he perched his elbows on his knees, leaned his chin into curled fists. “Just finish the damn interrogation so we can get the hell out of here. I’m done.”

With that, the interrogator took her rightful place at Rey’s front. Their voices were a dull hum in her ears, and they likely would have been drowned out as she slowly allowed herself to succumb to her disoriented state, to let the serum allow its full descent into her being and send her mind soaring across a vast galaxy, but the repeated question permeated the air in the otherwise empty room, bounced off of four white walls and sent her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

“Do you have any _compromising feelings_ for the former Supreme Leader of the First Order, our enemy, and currently, our captive _guest_ , Ben Solo?”


	12. A Plan (Ben)

Ben opened his eyes. Between the throbbing at his forehead and the expectation that he would soon be cornered by the resistance, he could for once say that he felt a twinge of anxiety not marred by hate or emanating from the dark side, a feeling of being lost belonging to Ben Solo and not shoved to the backburner by Kylo Ren; snuffed out and replaced only by a stark reminder that he had to do what was needed, rather than what had exactly been moral at the time. 

It belonged to him, and because of that he could maintain an air of calm. 

Mostly. Rey had been scratching at the back of his mind for hours, and while her rampantly running thoughts had gone quiet hours ago--sending a barrage of muddled gibberish that he couldn’t quite piece together--he was left with nothing to do but sit, his back against the wall and wait for rest that would never come. Not now. 

It had only been a day--maybe two--and the scenery around him hadn’t changed, not that he expected it to. If it had been Kylo Ren, there would be nothing left of his “quarters”; Metal and steel, and the very limited furniture left inside would be shattered pieces and remains of nothing. 

Kylo Ren would not have taken to being locked in the same room for days on end with a viewing window like a caged animal. 

Strangely enough, Ben was growing used to it.

Since arriving back a few hours ago while Rey had been whisked away to do  _ whatever  _ it was that urged her to pound her muddled and discombobulated thoughts into the back of his skull, he forced himself to relax. He’d slid down the back wall with his legs stretched out and bent at an angle, willed himself to think of anything else other than openly thrusting his feelings through their Dyad or thinking about what he was  _ going  _ to say in their isolated corner earlier. 

It’d been all he  _ could  _ think about, head leaned back, looking up at the stark white ceiling with its blinding fluorescent lights and now various different video feed cameras, and every fleeting moment passed time much more slowly and flittered back to her. Because she was there, pushing herself through the thread. He could feel her coming, and as her voice drifted into the very front of his mind, as she appeared in front of him--albeit not physically but there sitting cross-legged a few feet from him, the only shift in his form was his eyes drifting downward, arms crossing over his chest rather than fumbling in his lap. 

“I didn’t realize that you would become such a prominent, incessant subject of my conditioning.” Rey admitted, noticeably straining to see him, looking tired, confused. Like she had just left a very heady interrogation and was struggling to make sense of whatever logic belonged to her, or  _ them. _

“It’s not that much of a surprise.” Ben remarked, closing his eyes as he breathed in, straining and willing her to be so much closer than she actually was. “Considering this morning, I have no doubt they’ll be wanting to place the blame on my end. I just wish you hadn’t been involved.” His eyes opened again, caught her there watching, the connection strong as if she were actually there, sitting with him.

He wished she was.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you back here. This is all my fault.”

Ben scoffed; shook his head. “It was my choice to follow you this far. I easily could have gone somewhere else if I hadn’t thought I could handle my due punishment.” He assured her. “I had already mulled over this possibility. I was right. That’s just it.”

“You’re unhappy. I can feel it.”

“I’m not unhappy.” Ben exhaled. “I’m frustrated at how easily avoidable this all could have been. Not the resistance, but choosing to listen to Snoke, falling to the dark side, and while I hate to admit it--a part of it, I can still feel it. It feels  _ good _ , but I know it’s wrong.” He shrugged, almost helpless. 

“I just want this nightmare to be over, no matter how childish of a wish it is. I want you by my side, as you’re supposed to be. As the Dyad willed it.”

His gaze settled on the spot in the floor between them, empty but her form just barely visible on the outskirts. “My spot here is something temporary. Not something that can just be built on or improved. One way or another, they won’t keep me.” Ben drew himself back from her, leaned his head back once again. “I just wish you would see it.” 

And just like before, he hadn’t a choice in how his life would be, rather someone would decide it for him.

“I do see it,” She murmured with a sincere regret, because he knew that his words rang true even if it was a harsh inevitable truth that she wasn’t ready to face let alone accept just yet. “But I see  _ you,  _ too.”

The force had a way of sharpening his intuition, and he loathed to believe that it could be right this time. He could sense her there amidst the chaos of his thoughts pressing hard into his mind, her presence alone overshadowing her racing worries, her anxiety latching onto his vague flickering light threatening to drown in his own sea of doubt.

The faint pulse of it going under was loud and demanding and he hoped that it had gone in silent passing by her, the idea an almost frightening concept despite having gone through it once before. Eventually it would snuff out, but his companion was maintaining her tight hold, even now.

Rey filled up the space of his quarters, and he remembered then just how real she could be, their connection always so profound and stronger than what he could make sense of, transcending time and space just to be near one another. Able to touch, and  _ talk. _

Ben knew her much better since then, shared a closeness that he hadn’t been built on taking her down along with the resistance, and now he felt the distance between them and only longed to close it for good. Interfering with death was unnatural. Force healing Rey had taken more out of him than he’d like to admit, and truthfully he was almost content with becoming one with the Force, ready to exist until his energy ceased to be. It hadn’t felt unnatural to go back with Rey, nothing that had advised him against it. No emotional response, no desires for less and more.

Did he want that? He didn’t know. Was it preferred, more than living with such strong uncertainty?

“I just wish things were different.” Rey went on, more quietly, the confession one that clung to her with a heavy guilt, locking her down with just as heavy a weight that justified her jumbled feelings. She was angry for wanting things to be better, as if they were obligated to  _ deserve _ even that much.

“That makes two of us.” Ben held out his hand, if to just extend the gesture that he was there and wasn’t going anywhere. Not that he necessarily had a choice in that regard.

“I used to think that I’d be alone without the resistance.” Rey mused softly. “Like I didn’t have a place without them, but now I feel just as strong a distance, as if I don’t belong here, either.”

Leaning his head back against the wall, his fingers came up to run through his hair. It had grown slick with oil and sweat, having not washed it since his dip in the bafta tank. “I’m just wondering what I am now without any sort of purpose.” 

It’d been his initial thought as soon as Rey had left him on the remnants of the Death Star. Where he belonged, what he should do, how to further bury Kylo Ren into the ground. “It just seemed right to follow you. I’m glad I did. It’s not my ideal situation, but it’s where I want to be.” He paused. “Sort of.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t always be this way. Somehow, this will all get better, I’m sure of it.” 

A very small and subtle shrug followed his words, wondering if all of the people walking by could see him now, thought he was crazy; dangerous. More crazy. His eyes cast over his prison, just above her head, settled on her again. “What did they say in conditioning? You’re more agitated than normal. And out of it.”

“A truth serum, yes.” Rey laughed quietly. “And a follow-up of adrenaline. We can talk about the conditioning later, actually.”

Was she afraid to talk about it? Did she know what was next for him? He could sense her anxiety as easily as his own, her forcing herself to grab a hold of her emotions and steady it. Maybe it was a side effect of the serum, throwing her emotions in a myriad of different directions, unsteady and chaotic.

Before he could delve into it too far, she was scooting closer, crossing her legs and he relished in the simplicity of her illusion. Close, but not there. Almost teasing him, taunting him for wanting something more than he could have. “Where would you go?” She asked suddenly. “If we could leave, I mean.”

“What?”

“Where would you want to be?” She watched him with some attentiveness, like the scavenger that she was so eager to pluck what she could from his soul to save and fix and make him better if only  _ she  _ could.

He believed she could. As far-fetched as it sounded.

“If  _ we _ could leave?” Ben’s stare swept over her, searching, looking for some sort of truth behind her curious question, or whether she would be, for some reason, joking. 

He shifted uncomfortably, not having any answer except to shrug again, brows furrowed in thought. The concept of a new home hadn’t dawned on him before, since leaving the Jedi Temple, it hadn’t even been a question he’d had the time to entertain. Not the resistance, not Alderaan, not the Jedi Temple, not the First Order…

“I guess if I was with someone I cared about, I wouldn’t care as much about where as much as who I was with.” That seemed honest enough, or at least it was as good an answer as he had, only because it was the truth even if a very lame and generic one. “I’ve seen a lot of the galaxy. Nothing ever stood out to me.” He drew his legs to his chest, further folding himself back from her, solemnly in confirmation to his own answer. “Where would you be if not here?”

Where did a girl in which the galaxy was much too large for, one who knew only of endless seas of sand and skies that plummeted to a flat and lifeless horizon see as home? Watching ships come and go, going somewhere and coming from somewhere. 

What did she see beyond the resistance, beyond chasing what had once been the ghost of Ben Solo? The one time he had spent in her room, he’d noticed she still slept curled tightly, reminiscent of the days spent on Jakku sleeping in the remnants of an AT-AT, and he only knew that because of the image that suddenly flashed in his mind. He didn't have to pry, didn't have to search too far to see her whimsical images of endless sand, water, fresh skies and brightly lit stars across the galaxy, clinging to the thread and balancing itself there. 

Rey’s cheeks prickled with a rush of heat as the thoughts painted themselves into both of their subconscious. The sap of their force bond always acted at the strangest times, passing some thoughts through the barest indentation that they otherwise tried to keep to themselves. She wasn’t faring too well now, another side effect of the serum, leaving her open and vulnerable.

He didn’t look.

“We could go somewhere warm.” She confided. “Not Jakku, somewhere else.” Noticeably she didn’t offer a suggestion, having not explored the galaxy as much as he had, and that thought seemed to fluster her with embarrassment. “I couldn’t imagine half of the places that you have seen,” But she seemed to share his sentiment at least. 

Home wasn’t a place.

“I would go wherever you wanted to go.” She confessed, and reached out, sitting so close to him now, their knees brushing one another, and he was certain that if he reached out, he’d feel her as fluidly as if they were in the same room. With her and not locked away in some steel cell. “Naboo maybe. Your mother told me about it once.”

The two of them, no opinions, the legacy of Kylo Ren far behind them. To Ben, that seemed good enough. “Naboo.” Ben confirmed. “We could go there. Someday.” He’d been there his fair share when he was nothing more than a padawan still under his wing. Of course, it would be a place that she could want to visit. It was warm, calm, quiet. Spared from the chaos that otherwise plagued the galaxy. 

“If you’d like to.”

So very carefully did he reach out his hand to her, bare and absent of gloves which was still a new concept that gave him a level of vulnerability he didn’t appreciate having in the open. A level of vulnerability that he’d only ever had with her. “Come to Naboo with me, Rey. Just the two of us. Away from the resistance, and responsibility. You’ve done more for them than they could repent for in a lifetime.” And the words sounded sincere, almost pleading as his eyes fixed on her own, soft in expression. Absent of Kylo Ren’s cold stare. “It’s time that you found your life, too. I’d like to find mine.”

“Ben--”

“I think that I could, if you were there.” He asked once again. “Be with me, Rey. Please?”

Ben could ask anything of her, and hope that she would at least consider it. He had suggested carving out a life for himself, finding what he could as Ben Solo, and he could see her flitting expression, half torn between hopeful and unsure at the same time. Whether it was his words, or the expression that was so like a time before when he’d held out his hand to her, they both remembered it quite well. 

The throne room had been set ablaze, broken and battered bodies scattered around them, the work of their power working together as one, how they’d fought in such sync instead of against each other.

And he’d begged,  _ begged _ her to join him. Something about then hadn’t been right to her, and they’d suffered so much--enough--to see their stars align and he hoped that his words were resounding through to her just as equally powerful now. It was for once spoken in a place of light--however dim it may be and there was no intent for corruption, no other motives. Just Ben Solo asking her to  _ stay.  _

Rey extended her hand to his, letting him envelope hers. Their fingertips touched, laced together as the force sparked with their connection, and her thumb stroked the ridges of his knuckles. His heart skipped a beat. “Naboo it is, then.” She nodded, her lips tugging into the barest trace of a smile that dimpled her freckled cheeks. A genuine expression broke through her usually focused features, casting a glowing light in her eyes. 

“As long as you continue this path in the light, I will follow you. I swear it, but if you ever descended back in, I would follow if just to bring you back to me.” And even if it was a part of him he didn’t want to entertain, he thought that meant at the expense of herself, of  _ everything.  _ Ben smiled despite himself, pressed their fingertips together and marveled at just how close she was, or how close she  _ felt.  _ Every night spent on First Order ships, Rey had always felt startlingly close, just out of his reach and never close enough at the same time. But she was there, always there whether in his thoughts or speaking to him through the thread that entwined them. “Naboo it is.”


	13. The Trial (Rey)

Rey’s eyes peeled open with the sudden intrusion of light, grimacing as she adjusted to the dual moons bright in the sky and threatening her with the arrival of morning. Her body felt heavy when she pushed herself up on her cot, the reversing injection that was basically bottled adrenaline meant to wipe the syrupy feeling from her body only made her feel sluggish and suddenly angry for what little she  _ could  _ recall. 

A new day, and with it, also bringing on too many problems that still needed solved. 

She’d failed the interrogation, that much had been blatantly obvious, but she also knew that her and Ben had made a promise--while “promise” hadn’t been a word used, it was as much of a promise as it could be. They were leaving. After that, the rest would be figured out in due time. Somewhere with  _ life _ , one that offered a new start with plenty of oceans and greenery that stretched farther than the eye could see; clear skies that would eventually promise rain, and a reminder that she had left the scorching deserts of Jakku far behind her. For something _ new. _

Wherever that may be. 

But she had to wake up first. 

With a soft intake of breath, Rey fell back over, curled up on her cot and tugged her body close to herself, small and compact that was more of a habit than something that was  _ comfortable.  _ It was safe, and even when she found safety and comfort in Ben, her sleeping mind still reverted back to what she knew, what was  _ familiar.  _ Her scavenger heart would not so easily be swayed. 

With recent events however, it was tumbling dangerously close. 

“Are you awake?” 

Rey’s eyes turned upward as Poe stepped foot inside of the room, but she was already moving to greet him, and with a dismissive hand gesture, he motioned for her to sit. She did, balls of her hands rubbing against her eyes. “ _ Stars _ , save me from your intrusions.” She hissed through her teeth.

“I wanted to talk to you without anyone else around.” He began.

“So that it will not hurt your pride to be seen with me, you mean?” She breathed, her hands falling into her lap, blinking furiously to adjust to the light that Poe half obscured standing in the doorway. 

Above her, his face fell as he ground his teeth together. Rey however was absorbed in it all, forgetting briefly their attitudes towards one another, his cold and wanting nothing more than to do right by the resistance, hers spitting venom at his betrayal. At least her shot this time was more verbal and not a crackling energy, but that didn’t mean looking up at the man she had considered a close friend--so lost in the weight overbearing on his shoulders--was painless. 

“Do you remember how you answered the major’s question?” 

“I can’t say I remember very much from your _ interrogation _ , but I am still feeling the effects of it.” She shot back bitterly.

“I just need you to understand  _ why.”  _ Poe attempted to reason, closing the curtain to her room and drowning them in a pale light. He stood in the very center, shifting his weight, hands fumbling before choosing to settle in front of him.

“I understand your  _ why _ , but placing blame because you have no other choice is what is not  _ fair.  _ I just want you to trust me, and my judgment to know that Ben will not revert back to Kylo Ren’s legacy.”

“I don’t care about what’s  _ fair _ , I care about doing what is needed to keep the few recruits we have  _ alive. _ I have let  _ Ben _ this far because I  _ do  _ trust you, and I want to believe what you’re telling me, but I can’t wait and hope the risk is worth it.” He put emphasis on Ben’s name, as if batting around calling him what they all considered him, an alias left behind on the Death Star, but he refrained, albeit with careful restraint. “Everyone is scared, and they have every right to be.” 

“So that is it then. We are not even going to offer him a chance? We are going to hole him up as a prisoner until he rots?” 

“We are going to have a trial. A democratic vote.” Poe decided. “The resistance can decide as a whole whether or not to keep him, but if they decide against it, Rey, he will have to go.” 

_ “What?!” _ Rey was standing now, voice echoing across the cave and resonating her outrage to whoever happened to be in earshot. “You have not even given him a chance to prove himself to anyone! He has been locked up like some war criminal! There is no  _ justice  _ in that! You know what their decision will be!” 

“Then that is the decision that will be made.” He confirmed, eyes darting to the ground between them, then looked back at her, expression torn in half somewhere between lost and helpless--as equally conflicted as she had been between her loyalty to the resistance and Ben--except his stood in between risking their friendship, or the potential safety to the resistance. 

The choice didn’t seem that difficult if looked at from that perspective. 

“We gave him a few days just to let everyone calm down. He threatened us, attacked a resistance member--whether by his fault or not--” Poe went on before she could interrupt, silencing her parted lips with a raised hand, the other braced against his hip now. “You said he’s Ben Solo, well then he needs a place that he can find that, but I think with the memories he has of the resistance, it shouldn’t be here.” 

Working a tick in his jaw, he backed off, exhaled an exaggerated sigh and nodded, only once. “He led excursions across the galaxy, killed millions, decimated planets and you don’t want to see that because it’s Ben.” Poe scoffed, his perturbed demeanor switching to something more hostile, but defeated. “Trial is in fifteen. Just be there.” 

And then he was gone, and Rey was left sitting on the cot with a heavy heart, but the results of the trial wouldn’t matter, if just to remind her that the resistance would never be on his side, that they would never accept him as he was or who he would turn out to be.

They would just have to go somewhere that he could.

* * *

Rey believed that the equation for humor was often tragedy and time. Enough cold nights on Jakku, enough overbearingly hot days, more than enough notches in the wall, enough trying to scavenge for trade to get her through the week, and enough waiting for parents who would never show despite her hoping. 

It had left her rather positive she thought. 

But it was a lesson that she recalled when a storm raged through and swept something with it or left something behind--hope, doubt, fear, sorrow, loneliness, all one jumbled catastrophic mess that often mixed together and and reminded her that while grief never quite went away, it proved easier and easier to make room for. The mentality that with enough of it, and enough time, there would eventually be reason to smile.

To laugh. 

She didn’t see that in Ben now. 

And he’d been through more than his fair share of tragedy, enough time, and yet absent of any humor to help get him through. 

A corner of the cave had been parted and sealed off for the trial. The entire resistance had abandoned their posts and gathered in their small secluded space to witness what was about to happen. She saw faces she recognized, those she’d fought alongside in the war, and slowly they were becoming more obscure.

People she’d thought of as friends, had claimed as family, now stood on the opposite side of what--rather who--she currently strived to protect. The air around them was thick with their oppressive emotions; apprehension, eagerness, anticipation. Like a predator circling crippled prey, waiting for them to fall so that they could sink their teeth into the kill. 

They’d been waiting for Ben to slip, and now they stood by to pass a judgment on someone they did not understand. Not like her. It was enough to make her frown, to look down at the floor and avoid the eyes she knew were on Ben instead, but his eyes would be on her. Bewildered, confused, and in all truth she couldn’t harness the bravery to look.

She’d felt him before she saw him, standing just far enough that she couldn’t reach but close enough that she could see his flat expression just outside of her peripherals. He’d been brought in first, waiting. 

Poe walked in with the council flanking him on either side. “There is no easy way to do this,” he started, visibly agitated. “And this was not an easy decision to make, but honestly I just want it out of my hands.” 

He’d been her friend once, too. 

“We’ve called an emergency trial due to a number of events since bringing the former Supreme Leader and our current captive guest, Kylo Ren and Ben Solo. First--” Poe started, speaking to the crowd of the resistance directly, noticeably avoiding her hardened gaze that now fixed desperately on him,  _ begging _ not to do this. “First being the assault on one of our own--”

“The one who tried to kill Ben in the confines of his room? The child who shot at him  _ first _ .” Rey spat.

“--Second being the results of Rey’s conditioning in which our Major feels could jeopardize future operations for the resistance--”

Rey seethed, frustration bubbling just at the bottom of her throat. 

“And third, a general consensus observed that the resistance’s morale is at risk with Kylo--with  _ Ben’s _ presence here.”

His words twisted against her insides like a knife, cutting and digging itself deeper with every passing second; stealing her breath, breaking tears through that otherwise would be locked behind whatever contempt she was feeling. All she had to remind herself that with  _ this,  _ whatever Poe was  _ suggesting  _ didn’t matter. Not in the end.

“So, it is with regret that the resistance as a whole has agreed to exile the accused with the forgiveness of his war crimes and with the belief that it is our best course of action moving forward,” Poe turned his gaze on Ben, acknowledging the man in which he had decided his fate for as murmurs rose up around the resistance, equal parts agreeable as whispering with some sick satisfaction at wherever he may end up. 

Alone. 

_ Dead.  _

“Arrangements will be made to escort Ben off planet to wherever he chooses, and as a further token of peace within the resistance, we will not force him to undergo any conditioning in case of any compromising Intel. We will be moving the base’s location, so all current information here is subject to forfeit.” Poe rattled on, but all Rey could do was breathe to keep the blood from rushing to her ears, to keep her mind on the right path, stop herself from lashing out against his decision.

“Dismissed.” His voice boomed and echoed off the cave walls. 

She searched for Ben disappearing through the weaving bodies of people that she knew--or thought she knew--as they went about lives that hadn’t shattered in the blink of a few moments. 

Poe’s sudden presence at her side forced her from where she’d retreated to contain the pressure of her emotions. The crowd around them was already dispersing, leaving her and Poe, and suddenly no other person in the room mattered. 

“We are giving him until tonight. You’ll have time to speak with him before then,” Poe murmured, aware of her fragile state. 

She didn’t feel fragile. Rey only felt  _ anger,  _ and  _ spite.  _ “I want to speak with him now,” she pressed, feeling for the natural tether that connected her to him. A dyad in the Force. She couldn’t hold back her panic as it clawed desperately to reach him.

But there was nothing.

“I’ll make the arrangements.” Poe assured her. “But I just need you to trust me and know that this is the right course of action to take. Don’t make this any worse than what it is.” He urged, taking one step back, but she persisted, hands curled into fists at her side, a physical tremor in her hands. 

“ _ Trust _ ?!” Rey practically spat. “You want me to  _ trust  _ you after what you have conditioned into their heads? That Ben is a  _ threat  _ after everything he has been subjected to the last few days?” A hitch in her throat, emotions welling inside and threatening to spill out, lips pressed together in one angry thin line. 

“The resistance would not stand for it. You know this, and I’ve told you.”

“It was your responsibility to make them understand. At least for now. For  _ me. _ ” Rey bristled. “Does my friendship mean nothing to you?”

“It does.” Poe answered, quiet. “But so does my standing in the resistance. Finn would agree if he were here.”

“Finn would have also stood up for Ben, or he would at least offer something other than what you had set in your mind before the trial even started!” 

“I don’t expect you to understand.” 

“I don’t, but I do understand what kind of leader you are turning out to be.” And Rey ejected herself before she could lash out, backing away, her hands braced into fists. “And it is not one that I can say I am proud to be a part of. Do  _ not  _ follow me.” 

In her fit of rage, she retreated back to Ben’s quarters, reminding herself repeatedly that the results didn’t matter, that they were leaving the resistance behind to go wherever--for now--that they would find somewhere Ben could belong, start a new life however he wanted it. She would give him a chance that nobody else seemed as eager to do, because she believed in him, what he could be, what he  _ was.  _

And they would find it together. 

_ There are still plans for you. Both of you. Don’t give up on him, Rey. _

Rey still had that promise to fulfill, and getting him out of this place was only the start. What still had yet to come? Was it a fate, or mere destiny? 

She would help him, come what may.

It was C-3PO that she interrupted her heated trek, noticing his glossy metal form clanking toward her with a purpose. What that had been, she couldn’t tell at first glance. Unfortunately, he was always quick to talk. She couldn’t take a wide berth to go around him, she realized, and was forced to a halt.

“Rey, it is  _ so  _ good to see you back!” The metallic grinding of shuffled steps across the cave floor echoed in her ears, enough to grind her teeth as she winced.

“And you as well, 3PO, but I really need to be--” 

“Of course! You may rest assured knowing Ben will be fit for comfort following his journey out. I am sure that wherever he ends up, it will surely be better for him, I believe!” 

“Do you agree with the choice they made 3PO?” 

“It is difficult to say.” 3PO answered, and with a soft hum of thought, he threw his arms up. “I do not see the same person standing in the resistance now, but that does not mean that everyone can forget that we fought a war. I am sure that Poe’s reasoning is surely to benefit the resistance in the future.” 

“Maybe,” She murmured, chewing at her lower lip. 

“But I cannot condone his exile either, especially not given the chance to prove his innocence. Chewbacca has expressed that same opinion, despite everything, and if he can, I have confidence that eventually everyone else can follow his example.” 

“I’m hoping that to be the case. Goodnight, 3PO.” She bid the golden droid a farewell with a quick wave and fixated on returning to the Tantive. Silhouettes flickered in shadows across the cave, people laughing, celebrating, dancing. Part of her yearned to join them, to  _ fit.  _ Another part scorned that she even entertained it, but the most reasonable part of her acknowledged why and with that, she pressed on.

Ben’s anticipation crackled like electricity when she neared the outside of his cell, his emotions hitting her like a storm, raging but with a calm that suggested he had known his fate before it had been decided, and had come to accept that for the second time in his life, home refused to accept him. He was  _ nothing,  _ a liability, a monster. A pest that needed to be exterminated. 

There was no light in Kylo Ren. 

No forgiveness worthy for Ben Solo.


	14. Looking Too Close (Ben)

Ben paced the inside of his cell. It wouldn’t be long now, between whether or not Rey had been serious about leaving--if her medically intoxicated state hadn’t just been what she’d thought a strange fever dream--or if the resistance would stop by to escort him off planet. Maybe even that was a mere excuse to shoot him down when he was out of sight, and finish what they started. 

He only hoped that Rey was serious. With her at his side, maybe he would finally be making a step in the right direction. 

Another step. 

He decided that following her back to the resistance didn’t count. 

But he would have an approximation of happiness, some semblance of peace in a new start somewhere. Away from the eyes of the resistance, away from anyone that would know him as Kylo Ren. Maybe he could find work using his abilities for something worthwhile. Maybe he could finally tell Rey… 

_ Rey.  _

He halted, fists unclenching at his sides as he exhaled a breath. She would be there, and that gave him some semblance of peace, guiding him like a light throuh the dark that seemed hellbent on snuffing what little part of Ben Solo he held out again. In truth, he mostly anticipated never being in such a small enclosed space again, had made a promise that he wouldn’t. 

That was enough to calm his jumbled nerves, get him to look  _ ahead  _ rather than behind, and he breathed and thought and wondered where that small sliver of his hesitation remained. 

It was the only connection he had to his parents, where his future was planned originally, and he didn’t exactly  _ know  _ what kind of life he could make for himself out there. Ben couldn’t support both of them, didn’t know if she would be safe out there and no doubt her face and name were known to enough interested parties. First Order sympathizers, thieves, killers…

He grimaced. 

He had the luxury of others thinking he was dead.

And he was, but that same thing was arching to graze against the part of him that was still dark, that clung to what had existed of him before, trying to bring  _ him _ back out. Ben no longer sensed conflict in him, but something that had been taped down and smothered, trying to climb out and trade him places. It was subdued by the light for now, as little a part of him as that was, but he was determined to keep it under, even if every part of him yearned against it. 

Ben shook his head. Rey was coming, her mind reeling, much less level than him who had accepted his fate from the start--before they had even made it to Exogol. As soon as she’d stepped foot through the durasteel door, R2 beeped curiously beside her, a gesture of which she ignored. She was already motioning him out, tears prickling the corners of her eyes and noticeably grappling for some form of control. “Let’s go.” 

There was no care for hesitation, and she looked so sure despite everything, and his heart for the moment was in the same place. Rey had spoken the previous night of her yearning to leave, to start over with  _ him _ , to be free of the judgment that remained within the resistance. It’d been her home once, unlike him, and yet because of him, she was so sure in leaving it. 

He followed her out without protest, his saber passed into the palm of his hand where he held it in a white-knucked grip.

The halls of the Tantive were silent, fluorescent lights passing above them in a blur. Despite their rushed pace, Ben had to maintain a careful stride in order not to tread over the back of her heels. R2 rolled at their side, flashing a series of beeps and whistles that echoed throughout the hall in warning. 

Rey shushed him. “Be quiet, R2.” She hissed. “I don’t care.”

R2 whistled low.

“I am not being harsh.” She answered. “I’m not going to argue. If you want to tell Poe, then do it but I am not going back.” 

R2 beeped, his wheels working double time to push himself in front of Rey who was forced to a stop. Ben came to an abrupt halt just behind her, towering.

“Move out of the way R2.” Rey hissed. “You’re very small; I can probably step over you if I wanted.”

The droid whistled, turning its mechanical head back and forth. 

“ _ Move _ ,” Rey whispered. “This is your  _ last  _ warning.” 

“Rey--” Ben started, their thread cracking like a whip, demanding and insistent, tugging harder at one side, tugging  _ him. _

The loud resounding roar echoing through the ship’s hallways interrupted what he had been  _ about  _ to say.

A cry of outrage that sent shivers up his spine, enough of a push for Rey to shove herself at his front, holding up her hands, her saber in one, deactivated but thumbing the activation switch.

“Chewie!” She acknowledged the Wookie as he barreled down the main corridor. Seeing his father’s oldest friend gripped at his heart, shoved him back into memories he had long since buried.

Chewie had been there when Ben Solo was born, when his father had insisted on calling him Han Jr. before his mother had settled on Ben. One of the few times he had seen Luke smile was when they recounted the story; he had been fond of it. 

He had been there when Ben called Leia mom for the first time, had laughed at how jealous Han had been when  _ dad  _ hadn’t been his first words; he’d been there when he’d referred to Chewie as an uncle, had rode on his shoulders while they ran around the resistance base pretending to take flight.

Through all of the strange creatures Ben had brought home, when he had helped clean the ship after an incident when a particular one he’d found ripped through and he’d been afraid of his parent’s scolding. He let Ben play on the falcon, taught him the basics of flight controls and agreed to convince Han to teach him how to fly, no matter how much they had been against it at the time.

He hadn’t been too angry when Ben had accidentally shot him with a blaster, and Ben also never learned to play Dejarik correctly because the wookie always let him win. 

Chewie had been there when his parents hadn’t, had hugged him through his childish nightmares, when he was scared of himself and dreaming of a dark future, comforted him when his parents hadn’t been home, held him when the voices didn’t let him sleep. 

When Ben learned how strong he was with the force, when his parents spoke of their fear of him, how his bad temper wouldn’t let him control it. 

Chewie was there when they sent Ben away and didn’t come back. 

And he was there when Kylo Ren killed his best friend, and for his mother to cry, when Luke became one with the force and still held hope that Ben would come back to them no matter how much he probably believed that he wouldn’t. 

Ben had, and he stood there now looking his outraged uncle in the eyes trying not to flinch back with the memory of the bridge. Deft fingers wrapped around Rey’s bicep and tugged her out of the way. He faced him, hands held out to his sides in a show of truce. 

“Chewie-” 

A furry paw collided hard with the side of his face, hard enough to snap his head sideways. While disorienting, he winced and rubbed a hand across his jaw and looked up.

“Chewie!” Rey gasped.

“I deserved that.” Ben noted as Chewie erupted into a series of growls and grunts.

“I deserve that too.” 

Another harsh growl. 

“I know what I did.” The memory had been a constant plague on his mind since it had happened, had been a flickering point in the rising of his own internal conflict. “Everything that I did.”

_ I want to be free of this pain. _

_ I know what I have to do, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it. _

“But I can’t atone for it. There is nothing that I could do, but I am asking for you to at least let me try.”

Gentle fingers wrapped around his arm, and he could see Rey just outside of his peripherals, a gesture of comfort as her feet scuffed across the ground to move closer. 

He flinched but didn’t pull away.

“We have to go.” She urged softly, eyes flicking to Chewbacca who leveled the two of them with a stare, R2 standing just on the other side, whistling low. “Chewie, we’re taking the Falcon.”

Chewbacca growled.

“It is the only ship that we have.” Rey pointed out. “Luke’s fighter did not survive the trip back. You can come, but either way we are taking that ship. We will go through you too, and honestly I thought I killed you once and I’d rather not repeat it.”

Chewbacca looked between them, huffed a grumble of defeat, and only with great reluctance did he motion R2 aside, the droid obeying with a series of curious clicks and whistles. 

“Thank you.” She murmured, her feet carrying her further down the corridor. 

R2 and Chewbacca remained on their heels as they stepped out of the Tantive onto the rocky crags of Crait, sun high in the sky making it muggy and hot, one wide ray heating up the rocks under their feet and coating them with sweat. It seeped through the abhorrent green uniform he had been forced to wear, but he could only imagine how much worse it would be if he had been in his black robes.

The resistance uniforms had that going for them at least.

Ben squinted against the light, but he couldn’t stop to take it in, nor the fresh air, the  _ freedom. _ Instead, his steps remained in tow with Rey’s, moving urgently toward the Falcon. Neither looked behind them, didn’t entertain what they may have been leaving behind--what Rey may have been leaving behind. He would be escorted off planet either way, but the brief memories he had of the Resistance were few that he couldn’t see now.

He stopped. There was another presence there, more prodding, more insistent, stubborn. One that he knew all too well when she had carelessly barged into Rey’s room and asked them not to be doing anything inappropriate. Not that they had been.

And Rey felt it too, as she stopped, whipped around with wide eyes as the voice of her friend rang out.

“Rey, stop!” 

Rose stood there--noticeably alone--her eyes fixated on Rey, a flickering insistence in them  _ pleading.  _ Bewildered, as if her entire world had come crashing down, non-understanding, unwilling to accept the hand that she’d been dealt. “Stay.” 

“Don’t get in the way.” Rey warned. “If Poe is exiling Ben, then where he goes, I go too.”

“ _ You  _ don’t do this!” Rose insisted. “Rey, your place is with the resistance. We can’t do this without you.” 

“So was Ben’s, and Poe kicked him out despite everything.” She thumbed the ignition switch, the blade whirring to life with its glowing light. “I will go through you if I have to.” Her voice dropped low, harboring the same malice aboard the remnants of the Death Star. “Go.  _ Back. _ ” 

“No.”

“Go.  _ Back _ .” 

“Come.  _ Home _ .”

“It’s not my home.” Rey spat with utter defiance. “Not anymore. You would all do well to remember that when Finn returns.” She backed up, shoving against Ben’s arms, but he didn’t budge despite her ushering him backward. 

“Make the right choice.”

“This _ is _ the right choice.”

“You’ll be marking yourself as a fugitive.”

“So  _ be _ it.” Rey stiffened and lifted her weapon, the line on the horizon by the cave growing wider, darker with the outline of bodies, their hazy blotches through the sun’s heat wave becoming clearer. 

The resistance was coming. 

Ben came to stand at her side. If there was any other chance to go against the resistance  _ again _ , it may as well have been then. He thumbed the ignition switch as his own saber thrummed to light, held out his hand and tuned into the force. 

Rose didn’t see them, holding up her hands and still begging incessantly for her to come home.

The blasters smoked with the sudden gunfire, R2’s screeching piercing his ears, Rose turning to look over her shoulder as Rey screamed at her to move out of the way. Everything moved in slow motion, a wave of different variations of light barreling across the crags toward them. 

With one quick flicker of his hand, Ben channeled into the force, a sharp wave throwing itself into Rose’s side and sending her barreling across the cracks, holding her down to prevent catching a stray blast in the back. It meant he had one hand to use, but he wouldn’t fight to kill. 

Ben would fight to run. “Let’s go, Rey.”

She didn’t budge. 

“ _ Rey _ ,” He said, more sharply.

“They’ll follow.” Her voice laced with frustration, a sharpness very unlike her. The thread between them crackled and spat, and tugged through her side more violently, opening up something darker, something he couldn’t bear to look into. 

“ _ What _ ?”

“I said they’ll  _ follow _ .”

She threw her hand up, a crackling in the sky rumbled like thunder and shook the ground beneath their feet. A blinding light flashed, and Ben threw up his hand to shield himself from it, the deafening thrum of electricity barreling toward the ground at the running resistance fighters. The force held on Rose released as she scrambled to her feet, Ben throwing his hand skyward, willing the force to come to his aid.

It obeyed, a large shove of energy intercepting the lightning and careening it into the cave. A loud resounding crash and a cloud of smoke billowed in the air, remnants of rock and clay sliding down the cave’s foundation. 

Ben breathed as he stumbled back, his heart thrumming in his chest, the adrenaline roaring in his ears. 

What was she  _ doing _ ?

The force bended equally to Rey’s will as it kicked up sand and rock, a blast wave erupted in front of them, whipping their hair and clothes back in one abrupt push, shoving old allies out from under their feet. One in particular rolled over, head bashing against a stone as he cried out, grasping the base of his skull.

Ben watched with a sense of bewilderment, bafflement, disbelief. 

But he didn’t have time to process it. Rey grabbed his hand and bolted the remaining distance for the Falcon. They passed the threshold as the door sighed open, Ben looking over his shoulder to catch Chewie and R2, outside, watching them. R2’s lights were flickering left and right in a series of colors, but his eyes remained on Chewie who offered him nothing more than a nod that he returned pressing the hatch button as the door sighed shut in front of him.

When Ben turned and maneuvered after Rey--who wasted no time in making a break for the cockpit--he took in the surroundings of the Falcon. 

The old ship hadn’t changed, if not more run down than it had been before. It creaked underneath every rushed step that he made through the hall toward the cockpit, Rey several paces in front and already throwing herself in the pilot’s seat. Her hands flew over the switches, and he found himself in a momentary pause. 

Pads of his fingertips brushed against the walls, and for a moment he reminisced in a time when the ship had been promised to him, when Han had taught him for the first time, every moment spent with Chewie on the ship’s maintenance, his mother commenting numerous times of their need for a new one.

It could never be replaced of course, but it had almost become an inside joke amongst his family. One of the few things that they could all share together. 

One of the few things they had.

“Ben, come on let’s go!” Rey waved sporadically to the co-pilot’s seat and with a nod, he obeyed.

His back slumped against the chair’s rough exterior, grasping for the controls and thumbing buttons as the ship rumbled to life. It trembled and quaked with strain, but it was levitating, pumping more furiously to remain airborne, but soon enough they were barreling toward the atmosphere, Crait’s scenery passing by in a blur, replaced instead by the vastness of space with various different stars and surrounding planets.

In the pilot’s seat, Rey slumped back as well, running a hand down her face with a soft hum. 

As much as he wanted to shake it, he couldn’t. What she had thought of doing, what she’d  _ almost  _ done. That dark tug on the thread was one he knew too well, one he didn’t think he would  _ ever  _ see on the other side. Rey’s light had become something he was so used to looking into, one that blinded him when he was feeling lost. 

Never once had he entertained looking into the opposite. 

“Rey.”

“What?” She turned her head to look at him, seemingly back to normal, or as normal as one could be in their situation, he guessed. 

“What happened on Crait. What were you expecting to do?”

Contemplation marked her features, straightening in the pilot’s seat with a huff. “I was trying to scare them. I was hoping that they would run away.” 

“You nearly hit them.” 

Rey’s lips parted, and worked several explanations in her mouth that didn’t quite come through, eyelids fluttering as she seemingly came up with nothing. Nothing but dismissal. “I don’t want to talk about this now. I was frustrated, and angry and I just wanted us to be left alone. If you can spare this conversation for when we exit the ship, it will be most appreciated.” The pilot’s seat spun away, and he heard her back hit the seat again as she absently thumbed the different controls. 

She left them in silence.

Ben did leave it for now, but the possibility still scratched at the back of his mind, yearned him to entertain the possibility. He turned his head to look out the window, at a scenery that he had seen so many times before in his travels. Before, he had never taken the time to appreciate it, the openness, that façade of freedom, opening up a whole world of possibilities that echoed a life somewhere for Ben Solo. 

He did so now, reveled in it, appreciated that he could look without being in the cramped confines of a star fighter. 

“Naboo.” He said.

“What?” Rey leaned back and peeked out from behind the pilot’s seat, furrowing her brows. 

“That’s where we agreed. My grandmother was from there. It’s vibrant. There’s a lot of seas, a lot of grasslands.” Lips cocked back into the barest trace of a half smile he added. “And not a lot of sand. Not like Tattooine or Jakku. We could go there, when things settle down.” 

And for the first time that day, he saw Rey smile. An actual genuine smile that did not echo with the façade of trying to offer comfort or to pull light into the otherwise rough situation they had been plagued with the last few days. Rather, it was something more  _ her _ , completely absent of whatever part of her he had seen back on Crait. The part of her that reminded him that they were two complete opposites, barreling toward whatever end. 

For a fleeting moment, Ben believed that he had misunderstood, saw a possibility rather than a truth. 

Ben had also been fooled before, and with the subtlest of smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he prepped the falcon for takeoff.


	15. Too Many I Don't Knows (Finn)

The cockpit of the resistance ship was quiet, nothing but the hum of the ship and the occasional beeping of flight controls and radars echoed through the empty vastness of space. Lights flickered from the control panel, supplying the only illumination to Finn’s face. He sat straight in the pilot’s seat, a little taller than he normally would, voice feigning some form of confidence while he spoke to no one in particular.

“So, Rey. I was thinking we could y’know, go to the cliffside, maybe throw some rocks around?” Finn outwardly cringed at his own words, shaking his head. “No. No that’s stupid.” He decided, clearing his throat as he straightened, squared his shoulders, his fingers around the flight controls doing the same motions as though he weren’t in fact holding them and subtly jerking the ship aside while he tried a different approach to his phantom companion. 

“So, there was something else that I wanted to tell you.” His words came out with some form of smooth cohesiveness that time, jerking his shoulders left and right in his new show of confidence. “You know, when we were talking about all of that force sensitive stuff.” Another sigh, a dip in his chin as he closed his eyes, one hand rubbing against the base of his skull. “Would it be offensive if I called it  _ stuff _ ?”

He coughed, cleared his throat. One more time. 

“Rey, I am telling you right now that I--” And at that, a loud sigh escaped him, recognizing the overexaggerated dip in his tone, much deeper than normal. Leaning his head back, he turned his gaze skyward to the tiled ceiling.

He shrugged, mostly to himself. 

Himself, and whatever poor soul had to watch his pitiful display. 

“Why do I sound like Kylo Ren?” Finn mumbled helplessly, recounting the instance when Rey had thought that he had been confessing outside of Ben’s cell, had told him that while she was flattered, she hadn’t been looking for _anything._

He’d shot down the assumption immediately, and now he wished that he’d killed two Porgs with one stone and dealt with it all at once. One thing just seemed more important than the other at the time and damn him for having priorities. “You can’t compete with tall, dark and handsome. Should just give up and count your losses, Finn.”

Seemingly content with that much, he sniffed. “I’m already talking to myself. That’s the first step to acceptance.”

“Actually, you’re talking to me.” Poe’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker into the confines of the cockpit, recognizing the subtle manifestation of his doubt and lending an ear.

At least he hoped that was the case, as opposed to being a smartass.

As the thought passed, Finn simultaneously jumped in his seat. His hands jerked across the controls, the ship shuddering from the sudden action and while the pilot worked to correct it, his heart pounded in his chest at both the surprise and his own embarrassment that someone  _ had  _ been listening. His cheeks felt hot--they burned with a ferocity actually, and he silently thanked the Force that his co-general wasn’t there to see it.

If that was how the Force worked.

“You have been for a while actually.” Poe added.

“Yeah, I get it.” He scoffed, clearing his throat, leaning to the side of his seat to peer toward the back if just to see that it was in fact actually empty and he wouldn’t be the subject of anyone else’s entertainment. It was empty, and so Poe was the only one that had heard.

Good.

Except it was  _ Poe _ . 

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I’m bringing them back now. Clear me for landing.” Pushing the thought of everyone at the resistance laughing at him when he returned, Finn grasped for the controls, hands levitating over certain switches as he gouged their function. While he still wasn’t necessarily proficient at flying ships--not like Poe or Rey--he had learned enough to get by. If he could just learn the mechanics, Rey wouldn’t have a reason to call him a liar.

Even if he had technically lied at the time.

“Can you have Rey meet me? I’m hoping that she is as excited about these force sensitives as I am. I really don’t think that I can do this without her.”

There was a pause on the other end, and he entertained the possibility that he’d actually remembered to switch the comm off this time. But Poe’s voice eventually lilted through, albeit with more uncertainty than the amusement he’d shown a few seconds before. “That’s going to be a bit complicated.” He admitted tentatively.

“What do you mean? What’s complicated?”

“I’ll explain when you land.” Finn couldn’t protest or demand an answer. The comm clicked off, leaving him alone—for the first actual time—with a befuddled expression and mulling over the different possibilities of why it had to  _ wait. _

Was she mad at him? Mad that he left? Did she not want this? He could turn the ship around, and while the children were definitely a big step, he thought the two were ready. There was no Palpatine or Snoke to warp their minds, just a socially awkward previous Stormtrooper and a strong Jedi too stubborn for her own good. 

They could do it. With success, he hoped.

“He doesn’t sound like that by the way.” Poe’s voice once again boomed through the speaker, retrieving very much the same reaction from him as before. 

He let out a hum of irritation. “Can you--can you stop doing  _ that _ ?”

“Kylo Ren. He doesn't sound like that. Need to sound a little more threatening, talk about the dark side or something.” Poe chuckled. 

“I’m turning you off now.”

“Bye, Lover--.” 

Finn flipped the switch with his thoughts being his only company now. That, and the drowned out rumbling of the ship as it burst through Crait’s atmosphere, surroundings that unfortunately had not been familiar to him passing by in too much of a blur for him to grasp. He hadn’t had the chance to take it in since they’d gotten back. All it brought back was the memory of when they’d fought the First Order at that very same place, as opposed to a temporary home.

He slouched back, closing his eyes to revel in the moment before he would land and be subjected to whatever Poe had meant by  _ complicated.  _

Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?

* * *

Finn managed to land the ship easily enough, albeit somewhat rocky but it was better than sailing it directly into the resistance base and dying with his curiosities. At first glance, it looked more rough for wear than when he’d left it, like it had been attacked by some freak force of nature. 

Was  _ that  _ how the force worked?

He didn’t dwell on it, running down the ramp as Poe jogged up to meet him, holding a confidence in that cocky overbearing way that he had when trying not to admit that he was scared or unsure and tried to pass it off with humor instead. “So who talks first, you talk first or I talk--”

That display was all too familiar. 

“What did you do?” The way he addressed him was downright accusatory, brow pinched, bracing his hands on his hips and copying the motion that his co-general sported when he was looking to show his authority. Finn wore that same look well, he thought. 

“What do you mean what did  _ I  _ do?” Poe barked out an incredulous laugh. “ _ I  _ haven’t done anything.”

“What did you do? Where is Rey?” Finn pressed.

“She’s gone.”

“Gone? What--What do you mean  _ gone _ ? Gone as in?” 

“Gone as in gone.” He repeated, and also clarified. “As in blew a hole in the side of the base and took off with Ben Solo aka Kylo Ren gone.” 

“Why? She knew that I was bringing back sensitives. She wouldn’t just leave.” It sounded even more far-fetched the more he repeated it. That she had gone, that she had left when they needed her. It wasn’t like her, and he refused to believe it had been of her own accord. “What happened to keeping him here until I got back?”

Poe ducked his head with an expression of guilt. He gnawed at his lower lip. “Well, you see--”   
  
“Poe held a trial and the resistance kicked Ben out.” The quiet hum of Rose’s voice announced her approach. She looked tired, hair disheveled and out of the confines of the bands she normally pulled it back with, uniform covered in dirt and sediment, shaking her head as though still in disbelief herself. “And Poe interrogated her about Ben with truth serum.” She added.

“You did  _ what _ ?” Finn gaped, turning his suddenly lethal glare to his co-general. 

Poe grimaced, lips pressed together, closing his eyes to further help him hide away from  _ that  _ truth. “I was trying to make sure that her feelings didn’t get in the way of the resistance. That’s  _ it _ .” He reasoned. From the amount of protests against  _ exactly  _ that, of course that same reasoning didn’t reach him. 

He was trying to help him understand.

“Wait.” Finn started.

“It’s just what I  _ needed _ to do.”

“Feelings. What do you mean  _ feelings _ ?”

Now it was Rose and Poe’s turn to look at him in equal bafflement, a pitiful expression on both of their faces. They exchanged one look, equally questioning the other of  _ who  _ would tell him. It was Poe who seemingly lost under Rose’s soft glare and harsh jab in his ribs. 

“C’mon, man. Don’t be stupid. You know what I’m talking about.” 

“Don’t be stupid? How about  _ you  _ don’t be stupid. You’re the one that ran her off.” The crease in Finn’s brow deepened.

“You know what, I’ll show you the interrogation tape later. The point is that she’s gone, and Kylo’s gone and they’re not coming back. Not willingly.” A hand waved through the air, his other hand on his hip as if that was just  _ it.  _

But that  _ couldn’t  _ have been it. Finn didn’t want that to just  _ be it.  _

“And there’s also more important things to be worrying about right now.” Rose placed herself between them, holding up her arms to block them off. Her height didn’t offer much in the ways of a barrier, but neither of the two generals chose to mention it. “Like the base. Look it’s destroyed, never mind who would have heard the blast.” 

“Do I even want to know  _ why  _ that happened.” 

“Also Rey.” Poe answered.

“Of course.” Finn took a deep breath, calming his anxiety of now knowing what  _ complicated  _ had meant. It was definitely complicated, but it definitely could have been a lot worse. “We’ll just have to bring Rey back. Explain the situation.” He decided. 

“Were you not listening to Poe?” Rose gawked. “ _ She  _ did this. After all of the poor choices we made,” She cast one glance to her right. “No offense. She isn’t going to come back. Not without Ben, and we would be back to square one if we brought them both back here again.”

It was spoken with an honest sincerity, one that was almost impossible to deny.

Finn was finding it hard to deny, but definitely not impossible. “Alright,” He yielded. “Well, what do we do now? Any ideas?” 

“We prepare the resistance for our move to Ajan Kloss. Leave nothing behind.” Poe backed up, sinking into the leadership role seamlessly from their conversation before. He directed Finn forward, waving Rose over to the ship. “Can you bring the children inside? Get them settled. Finn and I will do the rest.”

Rose listened without complaint, putting her hand on Finn’s shoulder as a gesture of reassurance. Her eyes flicked between the two men, lips pursed in a thin line as her expression remained neutral, and then her steps took her back in the direction of his ship. 

Finn breathed in, and followed right on Poe’s heels. “Do we know how long the move is going to take?”

“A few weeks?” Up close, the damage done to the cave was more prominent, one large section of rock reduced to a mere dust pile, coating a lot of the machinery that was housed at the foot of the cave. Something smelled as though it were burning, and by the way the resistance members rushed to and fro--several greeting Finn as they rushed by--they were looking for it too. “Who cares about how long it’s going to take if we get the hell off this planet? I don’t know about you, but I could stay in a jungle for a while.” 

Finn couldn’t just acknowledge leaving, not so soon after they had settled, not since he hadn’t even been there long enough to enjoy. And he couldn’t acknowledge just  _ leaving _ without saying anything, or at least sending a message to Rey.

“What if we leave and Rey comes back here? How will she know how to find us?” 

“She’s a smart girl, Finn.” Poe assured him, but that same assurance was quickly brushed aside and replaced with a generalized frustration instead. He climbed one of the starfighters parked in the main hangar, popping the hatch and sifting through some contents behind the seat. “She’ll find us.” 

“And what if she doesn’t?”

“She will.” He leaped down from the wing of the ship, tossing a bag into Finn’s hands. He scrambled to catch it, holding it close to his chest. “Change into this.” 

“You’re being very optimistic.” Finn noted. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to get back so that we could leave. The longer we stay here, the longer we have to get caught by who knows what.” A clap on Finn’s shoulder, and Poe was moving on with little choice for him other than to follow. 

“What would you have done with Ren while we were jumping planet?”

That question was waved off with a dismissive hand gesture. And an excuse. “I’ve been figuring it out as I go. It would be the same in that instance.”

“You were just going to leave him here.” Finn stopped. 

Poe sniffed, pursing his lip, feet kicking up rock as he paused. He whipped around with a distracted nod, avoiding his line of sight. 

“Maybe. But them in here, they’re who I’m worried about. Rey’s judgement was clouded when it came to him, and he’s the reason she blew a hole in our base.”

“Yeah,” Finn scoffed, disbelieving. “I’ll bet that you just provoked her to do that.” 

“As much as I hate to say it, he is the only reason there weren’t any casualties.” Running long deft fingers through his hair, Poe sighed in defeat, jabbing a finger into Finn’s shoulder. “You want your confirmation for how Rey feels, watch the interrogation video. I’ll show it to you.” He promised. “Later.”

“Why did you feel the need to interrogate her again?” 

“I can’t even believe you’re even surprised right now. Look, he  _ did _ threaten to kill one of our own.”

“I can’t believe that I have to remind you that he also attacked him. And from the way I hear it, they weren’t exactly given any hospitable treatment.” Finn accused him.

Poe grimaced, chewed at the inside of his cheek, looked away and shuffled backward. “And I apologize.” He threw his hands out helplessly. “There. Are you happy?”

“If you sounded sincere maybe.” Finn shrugged, cocking his eyebrows. “Even just a little bit.” 

“I didn’t want to do that, but I had to be sure.” 

“Sure of  _ what _ ?” 

Poe gave up at that, throwing his hands up. He turned to walk away from him, and folded his hands behind his head, “Just. Watch. The. Video.” He droned out every word, each one as equally laced with a frustration as the last. 

Finn followed at his heels.

A brief pause carried itself between as they trekked through the main hub of the base, and Finn found himself unable to drop the conversation just yet. Too much had happened, more than he could necessarily wrap his head around.

“Drugged her?  _ Really _ ?” 

“Just let it go. It wasn’t my proudest moment.” 

“Rey would probably come back if you gave her an honest apology.” 

Poe stopped, and whipped around. He rounded on Finn who recoiled back from him, an accusatory finger aimed directly at his face. “You were unsure, too.”

“But I  _ trust  _ Rey and now she’s  _ gone. _ ” He spat back. 

“You really wanna do this right now?” Poe challenged.

“Yeah, I really wanna do this right now--ouch!” BB-8 came charging through the resistance base in a sporadic series of beeps and whirrs, barreling straight into Finn’s heels, a zap at his ankles causing him to jump. 

“At least BB-8 is on my side.” Poe noted with a smug satisfaction, at least until BB-8 swiveled his head to look up at him, shaking his mechanical head and beeping disconcertedly. 

“Alright, you know what? You were mine first.” Poe muttered dejectedly.

BB-8 whistled low, and then once again with more urgency.

“Not now, alright?” He nudged him with his foot, effectively rolling the BB droid back a few inches, and turned on Finn, this time with more calm as the former Stormtrooper rubbed at the sore spot on his leg, straightening and effectively being a couple inches over his friend. 

“Look I’m sorry, okay? About Rey, about  _ this _ , but if you want to ask her nicely to come back after everything, go ahead, but I’m moving everyone to Ajan Kloss where it is hopefully _ safer. _ ” 

“Okay, okay.” Finn put his hands out, palms facing outward in a show of truce. His eyes wandered off to the side, and then down where Poe tilted his head to better catch the look on his face.

He raised his eyebrows. “Finn?”

“Mhm?” His face shot up again.

“You’re still thinking about Rey.” Poe confirmed.

“Of course I’m still thinking about Rey.”

BB-8 swiveled around their feet, running into the back of Finn’s legs. He stumbled forward, nearly dropping the bag, and threw a soft glare the droid’s way.

“Alright, listen. We will relocate, cover up our tracks just in case, and then we’ll talk about finding Rey.” He smiled at the suggestion, as though they were meeting somewhere in the middle, even if one would take vastly longer than the other depending on how far she had run.

“Yeah.” Finn yielded, looking up from BB-8. “Yeah, okay. Deal.”

“Good.” Another clap on the back, a little forcefully and they continued on their path, BB-8 rolling at their side with a series of different clicks, swiveling his mechanical head at them both.

“Listen I’m not proud of it.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Finn agreed. 

“It’s hard trying to please two sides. If it were you, if it were me gone and you had been left with this choice, would you have kept Kylo Ren?”

“Yes.” With a nod, he sounded convincing, definitely convincing himself at least.

“If Rey’s opinion didn’t count.” Poe looked at him through a half-lidded stare.

Finn held the bag in his hands just a little tighter. “What? Yes, still.”

“You’re a liar.” He scoffed.

“Look I can’t exactly explain it myself, but something feels different about him, I guess. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t get the same feeling as before.” Something that discerned greatly from when he’d fought him in the snow laden forest, when the two of them had caught each other’s eye after he failed to shoot down those villagers. Ben Solo was absent of that murderous intent, an intent that wasn’t self defense at least. “And he had every opportunity to do something if he was going to.”

“What about Rey?” He went on. “Anything different?”

Finn shrugged. “Just Rey.” 

Poe seemed to mull that over. He looked away. “Right,” One quick flicker of a glance and he moved on. “Well I guess I’m still not ready to accept it. I can’t base my opinion on a  _ feeling _ .”

“I spent a lot of time with Kylo Ren in the first order when I was a Stormtrooper. I saw him do things, not good things, and I almost believe Rey. I trust in what she says.” 

“You said almost.” 

“I guess like you I’m still holding some kind of grudge.” 

“You’re jealous.” Poe realized, cocking his eyebrows with a low chuckle. 

“No!” Finn barked out in protest. “This is completely unrelated to that.”

“Sure.” He rolled his eyes. “I heard what you said on the ship.”

Finn’s mouth clamped shut, a slight flush taking to his cheeks but at least absent of the fiery ferocity he’d been plagued with on the ship. 

With what sounded almost like a screech of frustration, BB-8 rammed himself in between both of them, a loud series of different variations of sounds following the sudden exclamation. He swiveled back and forth, and the two men stopped their conversation to finally look down. Before either could necessarily ask  _ what,  _ BB-8 was already wheeling away, back toward the main entrance of the cave, a strong breeze blowing in, and carrying along with it a large cloud of dust.

The only thing that would carry that strong of force besides a storm--and in his case the Force--was a ship, Finn realized. Poe seemed to recognize it too. They both looked at each other, expressions equal parts as baffled as hopeful before they were bounding back toward the way they came, Finn tossing the bag he’d been thrown to the side for now. 

“You might have to rehearse your apology.” Finn teased him, already running on ahead after BB-8.

Once outside, a majority of the resistance had already gathered with Rose standing at the very front. Several dozen heads were aimed skyward, a large shadow casting over the resistance and giving it the illusion of night despite the sun casting a harsh glare over top of them that few moments before.

Finn watched from the mouth of the cave as the ship teetered toward the base, at first his legs refusing to move, gulping down air after he realized he hadn’t yet taken a breath. Its sheer size blew a gust of wind that made their clothes whip back, whipping with a raging fury while it made its descent. Finn squinted against it, holding a hand up to shield his eyes. 

He began to move toward it, a walk turning to a jog, every movement oozing hesitance. Anxiety hovered in the air around him, only escalating into an eerie silence. No one spoke. 

It wasn’t Rey, but  _ who _ ? 

A ramp slid down to dock as the main hatch hissed open. Finn peered between the sea of bodies as he progressed forward, attempting to catch the figure that walked ceremoniously down the ramp toward their small group. Rey didn’t wear all black, he thought with a sense of dread. Surely a hostile wouldn’t be stupid enough to come to Crait so soon after a war?

Nudging himself to the front--hands passing over several of his friends as he squeezed by--Finn positioned himself next to Rose. 

They came face to face with a ghost. 

A presumed spy _ against _ the First Order. 

Dead, last he’d heard.

His expression was none too kind, none too sympathetic or showing that same mercy when he had saved the group from being executed by the First Order. There was something ominous about it, approaching them with soldiers flanking him on every side but the front. A hidden purpose, one that more than likely didn’t involve helping them patch the hole in the cave. 

Poe pushed through the crowd and flanked his other side, mouth slightly agape and looking just as stunned as Finn felt.

General Hux looked between them with demanding insistence.

** “Where  _ is _ Kylo Ren?”   
**


	16. Do The Words Have Meaning? (Rey)

Rey didn’t expect Ben to stick around after the battle of Exogol. She didn’t count on Ben willingly coming back to the Resistance with her, that same Resistance imprisoning him, or for her to willingly go into exile with him when they decided that they couldn’t and wouldn’t accept him--a harsh reality that she was still struggling to come to terms with.

Ben Solo didn’t get the luxury having the history that he did. It didn’t happen because Kylo Ren would always be there to remind people as to why that wasn’t _feasible._ It wasn’t a fantasy that she dwelled on, because she knew with every part of her that peaceful endings were just that: fantasies. With every promise that the two made, with her insistence that she would be there as long as he needed her to be, halfway mumbling a confession that would probably always stand in between them unacknowledged, she still told herself that in the end it didn’t matter.

It couldn’t matter, even if now more than ever it felt like it should.

She didn’t think about it too much, avoiding the urge to dissect and analyze what exactly their connection _meant_ . The words _be with me_ could have meant anything, and it was a tease to her mind to play around with the idea of what she thought they did.

So far, she’d come up with no other alternative.

And unfortunately for Rey, she was exactly where she hadn’t _meant_ to be, where she hadn’t _tried_ to be: sitting in the cockpit of the Falcon with the galaxy whizzing by and overthinking. She didn’t _exactly_ have a preference as to what her relationship with Ben would be, just that she had a preference for him being close by. In the few years of fighting with the Resistance, she’d never believed that she would be given the choice--a choice that didn’t stop her from fighting whoever she could to avoid having to make it in the first place.

They’d never talked about it. Every touch, every interaction, every conversation, every _moment_ that had meant something had been left to fester and build up and fizzle out until the next one popped up and added itself to the collection of conversations the two should probably have.

 _Be with me, Rey. Please?_ It sounded more and more impossible for her to not have an answer to the easiest of questions. In what way?

Did they have to _be_ ? Could “us” just have been “us” with nothing else behind it? An unspoken title and confirmation between the two of them that would transcend an entire lifetime. She _knew_ but she also _didn’t_ and there wasn’t enough space for there to be an answer in between the two. 

The silence stretched between leaving the Resistance base to their next destination. They occupied the same space in a mutual quiet. She didn’t complain about that, and instead revelled in the time they could spend in close proximity not spent behind a prison door. 

When he’d walked away to go to the washroom, she’d silently pleaded for just a few more minutes, or even a split second to find the words that she’d been trying to say since she’d nearly toppled the Resistance base on her friend’s heads. Rey had turned to him before he’d left, had studied his outline in their leap to hyperspace and flashing lights of bypassing stars highlighting him in a faint glow. 

There was a cruel beauty that fit to his profile, something that he would have scoffed at had she told him, an exhale through his nose, his nostrils flaring before he’d shake his head as if she’d gone crazy and the only indication that he appreciated the gesture would be his index fingers and thumbs nervously rubbing together.

The way he’d slouched in the seat, looking more relaxed than he had his entire life--that she had seen him. A soft exhaustion dusting his face, the muscular outline of his arms hidden underneath the resistance jumpsuit pressing at the buttons above his head, strong hands gripping at the controls hard enough that she thought they’d break. She’d leaned across the cockpit, gently touched his arm to see the sudden surprise and unease flare in his eyes.

She had said nothing, and when she’d pulled free he’d announced that he was going to go wash off and left her alone.

Part of her wondered if that was to avoid her or if he was finally bothered by the residue that he hadn’t completely managed to wash off from their fight on Exogol. The look on his face was always hard to read, and for once she didn’t reach through the thread to find out herself. 

If he wanted her to know, he would tell her.

So, Rey sat a little taller in the pilot’s seat and even the passing lights of stars and galaxies did nothing to help the world inside the Falcon glow a little brighter. It stayed a dull gray, and the air snatched from her lungs was thrown into the vastness of space. 

She waited. 

She waited for a long time, casting a glance over the co-pilot’s seat every so often. 

Apprehension hung in the air, fear and panic resonating so strongly that the thread between them beckoned her to his side. His lightsaber flew from its resting place and careened into the door, the sound of metal clanging against steel before it rolled underneath the control panel. Rey had ducked her head just in time to avoid it, her eyes wide before jamming her thumb into various control switches and whipping the pilot’s seat around. 

She’d shoved herself from it and darted for the hall. One outstretched hand beckoned his saber to her palm, her legs pumping with all of the strength that she could muster in her own rising panic. Shaking and with her head running faster than her legs, screaming their objections, she went. Through every turn in the corridor and every scanner that she had to hit to get through and the fluorescent lights that suddenly felt blinding. A loud crash resounded and furthered her urgency.

Briefly, she wondered if it was only seconds that she’d been waiting instead of what felt like centuries. Nonetheless, she threw her hand into the scanner of the washroom and burst in only to come to an abrupt halt and fail to fight off the blood that ran to her face all at once.

Ben took a deep breath, ran his fingers through his hair and brushed it down against the nape of his neck. He sat under the stream, his legs stretched out and the water streaming down over his head. His eyes snapped open when she’d burst in, head whipping around to catch her in a wide-eyed stare. An insistent tugging through their Dyad broke her from her trance, and she was sure that all of her anxiety, agitation, concern--all rolling into one--sent a crackling through their thread as though to gouge his tolerance.

“I’m-” She gaped, lips flailing uselessly. “I didn’t, ah…” 

Her chest heaved, looking around the washroom and praying that some threat would show itself that she could use as an excuse for her sudden intrusion. “I’m-” Her thumb fumbled for the ignition switch. A hitch caught in her throat when her eyes found his nude form again, and she turned, breathing out. “ _Kriff_ , I am _so_ sorry. Your saber flew under the control panel, and I heard you fall and I thought-”

“Rey-”

“I mean, I don’t know exactly what I thought but I thought that I would come check on you just in case you were--”

“ _Rey-_ -”

The steam poured out of the washroom behind her, a cold chill that swept in ran up her spine. She acknowledged him with a soft _mhm,_ and avoided looking at him directly. The air suddenly felt too thick and the room was far too small and although she was looking away, he was still looking at her. 

She could feel it, his voice soft but his body tense, muscles standing out starkly under the steam of the washroom. Against her will, she wondered what they would feel like, to touch a part of him that wasn’t his hand, to bury her head between his shoulder blades and run her fingers over the smooth muscles of his back.

 _Force,_ help her now.

“It’s fine.” Ben assured her, holding up his hands to further illustrate, his face growing hot with his own embarrassment. He was acting much calmer than her, offering something that told her that they were in the situation _together_ , sharing the awkwardness of the moment.

“Right, I know that. I mean I know that _now_ .” She turned, giving him one more once over to confirm that he was in fact okay. Ben looked okay. _More_ than okay, actually.

His lips pressed together and he added, more blunt. “You’re still staring.”

Rey stiffened, slamming her eyes shut. She whipped around again, one hand flying up to the side of her face to further obscure her vision. “Right. I’m just,” she stammered. “I’m just going to leave you to finish, I mean I’ll see you--I’m just going to go.” Ducking her head through the doorway, she slammed her hand into the washroom scanner and retreated back to the cockpit.

She breathed a deep sigh. If things weren’t awkward between them before, they most definitely were now.

As the days went by, there seemed to be less and less to hide and when those same days continued to roll, those same things continued to grow in complication and flipped like a switch. The two of them bounced between wanting to succumb to their connection, and reminding themselves that they were enemies once and that they needed to figure out themselves before they would be able to figure out each other.

Rey rubbed at her eyes as she slumped back into the pilot’s seat. It all made her dizzy and this was supposed to be much easier than it was. They were supposed to go back to the Resistance and live out their days bringing peace to the galaxy one step at a time. Now she couldn’t even give Ben Solo peace in the shower… 

When he finally slipped back into the co-pilot’s seat of the Falcon, she’d glanced over to find that he had ditched the abhorrent green standard issued uniform and replaced it with a long black sleeve and jeans that fit a bit too big. They were his father’s, but Rey was sure that wherever Han Solo found himself now, he wouldn’t mind. Wet strands of hair were plastered to frame around his face, clasping his hands on his abdomen and lounging his head back.

“Did you enjoy your wash?” 

“Yeah. I did.” 

Rey wondered if she would ever come to know all the more miniscule parts of him. If he would ever cease to surprise her at every turn.

She didn’t count on it.

But she looked away, watched the galaxy pass by the viewport and settled into her seat flipping through the control switches with too many what ifs to answer, all hovering spontaneously over an unspoken question behind a simple statement.

_Be with me._

The excitement that had entered their lives for the briefest of moments in the washroom, and the smile that had tugged at her lips when she’d left did nothing to stop her mind from going somewhere else, obscured to him. He’d leaned forward, catching her eye just outside of her peripherals.

“Are you still thinking about what happened on Crait?” 

She looked over. “Huh?”

A hint of worry flickered in his eyes as though fearing that he may have suddenly miscalculated. He’d looked away, apprehension plucking through their Dyad that pressed his lips into a thin, tight line. A twinge of regret lurched in her heart. She’d almost reached for him. There was every reason for her to and simultaneously not. It’d been so easy to take his hand before, being the one to offer comfort however she could. This felt different to that. 

Rey wanted to; wanted to feel him there with her and get the proof that he was beside her and this was happening, that she didn’t imagine everything that had occurred on Exogol or with the Resistance and she wasn’t currently floating in the In-Between somewhere. 

So she did. 

She didn’t overthink the gesture or place anything behind it, but she reached across the cockpit, sliding her fingers up his wrist, and resting her hand on top. His touch was familiar, even in different scenery, a completely different situation; strong and warm and more than she could hope for. Then again, she only told herself it was because he meant something and he was important and she let herself believe that _be with me_ only meant what she’d hoped it did.

“I’ve done worse.” She replied, rotating in the pilot’s seat so that she was facing him, scooting to the end of it. It made it easier to tighten her grip, to turn their hands over so that their palms touched. She caught the beginnings of his baffled expression, a half-hearted smile touching her lips in turn. 

He countered his own baffled expression with the beginnings of a smile himself, genuine and so very rare, she wondered if she was one of the few that had been granted the opportunity to see it in all of its depths. “You _did_ slash me in the face,” he agreed, dipping his head to further confirm himself. “I had a scar. Took a literal miracle to heal.”

Rey laughed, and it was in that laugh that his smile broadened, enough to lift her own spirit, their earlier embarrassment thankfully left in the washroom where it belonged. “Yeah, okay.” She grinned. “I get the point.”

“And you refused to rule the galaxy with me.”

“Right.”

“And shut a door in my face.”

“I did.” 

“And you’re starting to sound like C-3PO, apologizing all the time.” 

Rey scoffed, incredulous. “What?” She gently shoved at his shoulder. “Are you willing to try me again, Solo?”

“If you think you can win.” Ben cocked a brow.

“I remember being the victor in every fight thus far.” Rey proclaimed proudly.

“ _You_ were fighting. _I_ was mostly dodging.”

“If that helps you better deal with it.” She said with the hint of a tease. Her fingers curled around his, her gaze downcast when their fingers intertwined again, his hand so much larger compared to hers, wide with calloused palms and long thin fingers that covered her own so easily. Strong, with raw untamed power just underneath his fingertips. 

Rey’s apprehension thrummed underneath her palm, and his grip around her hand tightened. “You seem happy.” She observed. “Happier.”

Features that had once been so tense and careful when back at the Resistance oozed out until he finally relaxed. Content fell upon his sleepy face, a small glimmer of hope shining through his once fatalistic demeanor. “When we eventually get to Naboo, I might actually feel good about the whole thing. Everything with the resistance; with the war. I guess because it’ll be far behind.”

She hummed, stars cluttering the atmosphere and opening up an entire galaxy above their heads. Possibilities. “We will.” And she said it as though it were a promise. “Once everything calms down. I just didn’t think that anyone would think to look there, had they decided to.”

She paused.

“If they wanted to.”

“We might be on a different path, but the resistance isn’t our enemy because of it.” 

Even with their currently rocky relationship with the resistance, the absolute nightmare that had been the last few days, she knew that to be true. Had it been anyone else, she may have just entertained the fact that they would immediately label them a fugitive--a traitor, but they were her friends and somehow even on opposite ends of the galaxy, they would always fight on the same side.

A part of her wanted to look into the conflict in his mind, search for a similar opinion, but he kept it closed off to her.

She didn’t need to read his mind to know or prod around for something else anyway. He hadn’t seemed to stop thinking about it, hadn’t gotten rid of the temptation to ask her.

“I know that you didn’t mean to do it.” 

There was a pause, a slight tick working itself in her jaw as if mulling over whether or not she should respond, and she dipped her head, eyes downcast.

“I didn’t.” Rey agreed gently. That wasn’t what she had been thinking about, but she humored him. Everything was okay and she let herself soak in it for however long it would last.

 _In what way?_ She didn’t ask. Ben was trying and while she wasn’t sure exactly what beyond the realm of comfort, he was and she figured that so could she. A lot of things changed and somehow a lot of things remained the same—some she very desperately wanted to change. 

“And you wouldn’t have if you didn’t think that you had to.”

“I didn’t think about whether I should, or shouldn’t. I just,” she shrugged. “I just did it. I can’t explain it. It was like for a moment I lost control. All I could think about was leaving, and for a moment I didn’t care what would happen to them.” 

Her gaze was fixed on nothing in particular, the sight of the electricity hitting the side of the Resistance base a fresh memory wedging itself into her mind’s eye, the smell of smoke and the yelling of her friends deafening in her ears. No, she hadn’t thought about it. Not until now. “And as soon as it was over, I just felt regret. I guess I’m just afraid.”

“That you’re going to end up like Palpatine?” 

Rey smiled at that, a sick smile as she lifted her chin up, blinked profusely. She nodded, tugging her hand away to sit in her lap. “I actually entertained telling the Resistance, but if they were having trouble accepting you even with your lineage, I have sincere doubts that they will accept mine. Especially after what I almost did.” 

“You didn’t _do_ anything.” His brows knitted together.

“Thanks to you.” She sucked in a breath, crossing her arms. The atmosphere flickered in her eyes, making them look so much brighter in that moment, highlighting his features when she looked at him again. “I owe you.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“They would be dead now if not for you. If you hadn’t interfered.” Her voice was suddenly soft and she knew it to be true. How much would she have thought of it then?

“You’re not a monster, Rey. You’re just... _you_.” 

A scoff, huffing out a laugh through her nose and ducking her head to look at her fingers laced tightly together in her lap. “What does that even mean?” 

“Like I said before. Good, _bright._ I may have fallen to Darth Vader’s temptation, but you’ve fought your lineage at every step--are fighting it. You just didn’t realize it. You were fated to sit on the throne with me.” 

“And what if there was more to Leia’s message? What if in the end I am fated to sit on a throne?” 

He shrugged and then he was the one looking away. “Then that just means there was a definite reason that I was kept here. With you.”

At her puzzled expression, he clarified. “To bring you back.”

“At the expense of yourself?” Her lips tugged into the slightest of a smile that dimpled one freckled cheek, sad in nature but heartfelt--he didn’t have to look to know it was there.

The split in his brows ached from the genuine expression that broke through his determined features. It did little to disguise the shift in his resolve.

“At the expense of everything.”


	17. Surrounding Me (Rey)

The throne room burned. 

Ash clogged her throat, the heaviness in the air intertwining with an eerie silence in the main chamber that housed her and Ben. Their connection whipped between them with a ferocity, the power of it pressing against her skin at every angle. Sweat clung to her with an uncomfortable griminess, but when she reached out and ran a line of ash down Ben’s cheek, he felt  _ exactly  _ the same. Even when she inhaled, it was warm and tangy, like she could  _ breathe  _ in their force connection, and somehow it was different with the growing lack of clean oxygen. 

She felt resistant when her finger swiped his cheek, a repelling force between them trying to drive them apart as their warring sides fought against itself and both of them simultaneously. Despite this, Ben remained kneeled in front of her, and while he did jerk his head away from the motion, he made no move to stand. 

It left her with some sort of sickening satisfaction. 

“Do you yield?” Flames crackled and whipped around them, drowning the room in an insufferable heat. Even then the emotion that dripped between them was so much colder than it had ever been before, tugging her with the memory of when he had attempted to pry the map to Luke Skywalker out of her head. Absent of emotion, of  _ understanding _ . The only thing between them then had been Kylo Ren’s absence of humanity, and Rey’s stubborn pride. 

Hilarious, considering the roles they stood in now. 

One large shadow cast over the room above her, not her shadow, but someone else’s; dark and echoing a voice in the back of her head. A creeping sensation crawled up her spine, her hair standing up at the nape of her neck, but she didn’t look. Everything else had been deferred, a mere blur in the background but Ben’s features a clear focus.

It was the only thing in focus. 

And she took it in.

The very tip of Leia’s saber inched startlingly close to his chest, the crackling pressure of it building with her own budding frustration. Their thread in the force remained ever insistent on closing that distance, and becoming one. In that moment however, they felt so much farther apart, that warring sensation willing it,  _ demanding  _ it. 

“No,” Ben answered, and he sounded so  _ sure.  _ It was enough to earn a scoff from her, his obstinacy despite these being his final moments. 

Had she not traveled down this path, had she chosen quite literally  _ anything  _ else, her heart may have twisted in her chest, dropped into her stomach with an aching nausea looking into those dark eyes now, the last bit of humanity she would ever see in Ben Solo, that last shred of faith. 

_ May  _ have. 

Part of her almost wanted him to obey, but his abstinence was endearing in a sense that it could have been labeled as downright charming. 

_ Your destiny is almost fulfilled. One final objective. Kill Ben Solo and take your place on the throne. _

It wasn’t a voice that she recognized, different tones mixing and blurring together into several that echoed around her all at once. Before, she would put her hands over her ears to block them out, but the saber stilled at her companion, and he was looking up at her with startling certainty.

Not backing down. 

Not giving in. 

Rey smiled, a sickly sweet smile that only bled ill intent. Her tone was much harsher, oozing her victory, but not with the casual playfulness that she had before. The real Rey who would crack jokes when she won rounds of sparring with her friends, that time that she had won their training session and the playful banter that they had exhibited in the Falcon’s cockpit the day before.

Shame that none of that mattered now. 

Before, she would have held onto that memory tightly and refused to let go. This mirage of her, this possibility she didn’t recall. She also didn’t care.

“So you choose to die, then?”

“Don’t do this.” Ben pleaded.

And he reasoned. “Don’t go this way!”

But she didn’t see it. 

The saber hummed with anticipation as it inched closer to his chest, and despite his incessant begging that she not run him through, he still didn’t move. 

“Rey,  _ stop _ !” 

_ Kill him.  _ The voice purred. 

“I would never follow someone so weak.” Rey hissed through clenched teeth. “Pathetic.”

“You want to kill me?” Ben spit with empty defiance. “Then do it! Put an end to this!” 

She scoffed, lowering her weapon only to kneel in front of him and cup his sharp jawline in her hand. Untapped power thrummed underneath her fingertips, prickling against her hand like sharp needles. “Any last words, monster?” 

“Yes.” Brows knitting together, a sudden resolve took to his features, turning that same determination on her. It was as if he recognized her doubt, his eyes daring contradiction but his lips speaking something else entirely. “Listen to my confession-”

But she couldn’t. Not the reasonable part of her, not the part of her that knew it wasn’t real. And only because when those last words were spoken, that was  _ it.  _ Rey--the Rey that tapped into the back of her mirage’s mind, unable to will her body to obey her, couldn’t stop the movements that felt so fluid but not hers all the same. She didn’t show restraint, nor any care at the fact that she was about to take such a precious life from his hands. One that meant  _ everything.  _

_ STOP!  _ She demanded, the booming sound of her thoughts echoing across her mind, the image before her dropping away into nothing. Now, thrown from it all, she slammed against ground that held nothing below her. No floor, no one around but her and the voice echoing across this place that reminded her so much of the empty vastness of the In-Between, except without Leia’s guidance and instead replaced with something much more sinister.

Rey winced, bracing her hands underneath of her, propping herself up onto her hands and knees. Her head swiveled around, but she could see nothing. There was someone else here drifting through the force and growing closer with every rapid leap of her heart. 

“I have found you.” It said underneath a malicious grin--or so she pictured. “You are something truly special, and he  _ beat  _ you.  _ He _ is the one that is holding your true potential from _ you _ !” 

The Jedi shoved herself back onto her knees, taking in trembling gasps as her palms planted tightly over her ears, and then with great desperation, her hands grasped underneath of her, but all they caught was water seeping through her fingers. It was cold, giving a red flush to her hands, but it was something to grasp--something to use and attempt to ground her. 

It wasn’t just her reaching for something to hold onto. A hand was extending to her on the other side, submerged in the darkness and obscuring their face. She knew it too well, had touched it more than enough times. Long, deft fingers that held so much practice and experience in them, that had bested her with the Force in more ways than she could imagine.

Except, he’d  _ always  _ held back.

“Ben!” Rey screeched, reaching through the invisible barrier between them, being met with resistance but she pushed through. The barrier grabbed at her hand and pushed against it, pushing her back. Her fingers just barely brushed against his own, the tips touching, but he reached past her, his hand wrapping around her wrist in a vice grip, and hers latched on with the same desperation.

At least until he tried to pull her under. 

“Ben!” She coughed. It yanked harder despite her fighting it, turning her head to avoid taking in mouthfuls of water. “Be with  _ me _ … Please…” 

* * *

Rey’s eyes snapped open with a gasping breath, gulping down several lungful's of air and blinking furiously for her eyes to adjust to the dark. The depths of her panic had roused her from sleep and clutched at her chest tightly, urging her to scramble for her lightsaber, making one lousy attempt to turn over in her bunk where it rested on the small container beside her cot, only to be met with resistance. 

Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, and the ball of her palm rubbed furiously against them.

It was still night, and she was home. 

_ Safe.  _

Ben was lying next to her--one hand holding onto her wrist strangely enough, fast asleep as though he had been there all night. Once they had come inside from the campfire, sleep had overtaken her quickly. She’d drifted in and out as she felt him settled onto the cot which had squealed and groaned  _ above  _ her, the flimsy structure unfamiliar with his stature that was much larger than what it could provide stability for. 

She entertained that being the reason that he had moved. The bottom cot held them well enough, though his sinking form pulled her against him, but such was the effect that he had on her any regular day. Of course she didn’t necessarily  _ mind _ , however foreign the concept of sharing such space with another person was. He did however teeter on the edge, close to falling off but looking content with his position nonetheless.

Well, there  _ was  _ the time that she had drifted off leaning against Finn, their backs pressed to the walls of the Falcon, having been overtaken by their exhaustion. 

_ That _ had been strictly platonic, and it did not stir within her the same rush of emotions that laying here with Ben did now. 

And like a moth drawn to a flame, Rey curled herself against him, his hand that had been holding her wrist released to accommodate her. She tucked it underneath her head, the other slipping around his waist. Fate had been testing her surely. They fit together so easily, and she could hear the whispers of his thoughts, how he longed for his bed on the First Order.

Though it was much larger, more plush, she felt him remember how even on the loneliest of nights, it proved to be still too much to endure. 

Ben preferred this, and that much made her release a quiet sigh of contentment. 

As she laid there, calming down from her initial rush of adrenaline buried into Ben’s side, the darkness wrapped around them in much the same way she embraced him now, how he had even embraced the darkest parts of him. There had been a time that she imagined that she had been the one holding him together much like this. 

Every broken part of him that threatened to shatter and cut her had been carefully construed and put in the most fragile of places, pieces constantly threatened to fall, threatened to shatter and cut her, and she’d endured every sting against her skin, every scar that it’d left.

It was easy because she knew it was right. 

Now, he was the one doing it for her. He endured it. 

All the dark parts. 

For the first time on Exogol, she felt peace. 

Rey felt as if she was  _ home.  _

And in the rarest of instances, Ben looked relaxed, one arm propped underneath his own head, the other that had released her wrist wrapped around the shallow dip in her waist instead. Despite her hesitance earlier, the way her nerves had been strung so tightly after the events that had led to them leaving Crait, taking up this space at his side felt so easy.  _ Natural,  _ even. 

Her fingers came to touch his relaxed expression ever so gently. With purpose, and making herself close to him out of something more than pure  _ want.  _ Things looked so much more simple when put into this controlled perspective, looking at the bare outline of his face through the dark and seeing someone not worrying about the future and the choices he was now freely given. 

No longer would anyone hover over him, willing him to do their bidding.

He had decided this on his own. 

The pads of her fingers continued and drifted down the line of his jaw, slack with released tension, drifting over his slightly parted lips. Her hand dropped, her own lips coming to graze the curve of his neck where she tucked her chin. Dark strands of his hair brushed against her nose with each shallow breath that he took, but she couldn’t allow herself to move. 

How long had she turned in her bunk before he had decided to join her? How long had he not spoken, had stayed awake and merely listened to her relentless tossing and turning before moving down to her bunk? 

Had he known that it would help, or was it merely a preference? He had been insistent on not sharing the same space when with the resistance, having chosen to sleep on the floor the first night in her room, but now that they were alone, was it a different story?

Did it matter his reasonings if the fact that he was just  _ here _ ? 

The moment in the washroom came back to her full force, not so much  _ what  _ she had seen--even if it was forever embedded into her mind’s eye--rather what she had  _ heard,  _ what she had sensed through the Force. His fear had been unmistakable, an insistent tugging through their threat that had sent her into the washroom in a blind panic, expecting the worst.

Perhaps he was more accustomed to his own darkness than she was, but she knew with a definite sureness that he was caught between his two realities, spread thin amongst several different worlds. The son of a senator, and also a smuggler; heir to the Jedi legacy and the previous First Order commander. Of course he had splintered, and continued to struggle with so many different sides of himself that fought over who had control of whichever moment at any given time. 

Had that played a part? Was he plagued with similar nightmares?

She’d spent so long tiptoeing with her feelings around Ben Solo. Enough nights had been spent awake, staring into the ceiling or an open sky replaying every moment that passed between them--deciphering what every moment meant, why it sent her heart soaring. She’d spent enough time trying to remember every word and its meaning, every vision down to even the barest touch. Every moment behind the eyes of Kylo Ren when she saw the ghost of Ben Solo slip through and beg for her help. 

On that night when they had touched hands through their force connection, her opinion of him had changed for good. She had seen something other than a monster that had murdered his father, and instead saw a boy on whom the fate of the galaxy presided, the boy who wanted nothing to do with the legacies that were hoisted upon him. The real Ben Solo, sad but powerful, starved for companionship, and love, lurking underneath a mask and a fake persona that had become one fleeting nightmare. 

Rey had kept every moment when he exhibited humanity in her mind’s eye, seared that expression into it. The eyes of a man who feared intimacy, but wanted it; the man who said  _ please  _ and held out a hand still maintained his distance. 

Underneath of her sorrow for him, she had found comfort and acceptance at his side--the part of him when he let his mask drop. His rough fingertips underneath her own, they had both looked into each other’s minds, gazing into each other’s memories. That same emptiness that she’d felt on Jakku, his force presence emanating a dark power so strong and willing her to shy away from it. When she’d pressed through, she saw who Ben could and would be without it, and she only longed for what she had found inside of him. 

Her deep hatred for him seemed like such a far off memory now--who he used to be--and she struggled with the realization of the many more reasons she had to be compassionate, to  _ understand _ what he had been going through. Their first connection when he had tried to get her to bring him Luke, she’d shot at him in fear and unbridled rage, the way he had looked at her in pain when she’d spat the word  _ monster  _ with venom. 

Except, he’d heard it before very much in the same way. Had agreed with a strong conviction. Yet, he continued to be the clarity and peace that she needed despite everything.

And more than anything, she had carefully navigated the connection that she was sure that she wanted--albeit would and could not admit--when she’d barged into the washroom and he’d sat naked before her, his muscular, bare form disarming her and shutting down any sense of cohesive thought. 

If his bare torso had been enough before, this would keep her silent around him for a long time, she thought. Her ears burned with shame, suddenly feeling foolish for reaching out to him, but it was certainly preferable if he had been in any kind of danger. 

And it  _ had  _ been preferable in other ways, too. 

_ No, no no.  _

Those were a few things on her mind--amongst other things. 

Nothing that she could or should think about now. 

_ Be with me, Rey. Please? _

Those words were still so very complicated.

So she reached up and pressed a gentle kiss underneath his jawline, the darkness enveloping her while her eyes fluttered closed and pierced only by Ben’s sleeping form molded around her. 

“Goodnight, Ben.”

Rey buried her face against the curve of his neck, listening to the white noise of recycled air being filtered throughout the ship. But she also listened to the calm that washed seamlessly over her companion. It was reassuring, comforting until she also drifted to sleep, her thoughts and mind for once at a pause and leaving her with no energy to even dream.


	18. Calm (Rey)

When Rey opened her eyes, night was still drifting through the Falcon’s windows. She was still in the same position that she had fallen asleep in, her tossing and turning having stilled since she had found Ben in the cot with her after her initial nightmare. 

He wasn't there now. 

Curled up on her side, the arm that had been draped around his waist now lay flat on the bed, and as if to ensure the fact that it was actually empty and this wasn’t the start of some other nightmare, she patted the empty space where he had slept. It wasn’t much, but craning her neck out over the bunk, she realized that the cot above her was empty too. 

He hadn’t moved there. 

So, where had he gone?

With one languid stretch, Rey pulled herself up from her cot. Now that her fatigue had been dealt with, her stomach felt as though it were caving in from the hunger pangs settling in. It was an easy feeling to ignore, something she had been used to from her time spent on Jakku with its limited rations, but being with the resistance as long as she had definitely made her spoiled. 

Most of her friends giving her their servings because sometimes their meals weren’t exactly  _ edible _ had left her with that expectation too. 

Hopefully Chewie had left some rations on the ship.

Somewhere. 

The halls were quiet, only the whirring of the ship’s mechanical systems working filled what otherwise would have been empty silence and noticeably there was still no outright sign of Ben. Even listening, tuning into their connection, there may as well have been static, or maybe some sort of voice message because she was blocked out and somehow that felt undeniably worse than merely being  _ told  _ that what had happened the night before was a mistake. 

On whose part, she wasn’t sure. 

Rey shook her head, willing her intrusive thoughts away. That couldn’t have been it, otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. She hadn’t been awake, and he had laid there on his own volition, had  _ preferred  _ it, she remembered. 

Silly thoughts stemming from her own anxiety. Nothing more. 

On her trek, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, contemplating what exactly their next step  _ was.  _ Not them personally as that was an entirely different bottle of Thala-siren milk that she wasn’t ready to open just yet. Naboo was their next destination--at least that was what they had decided without any  _ real  _ plan--but after the waiting period on this forest planet--Tattooine Ben had said--was over, and they went to Naboo, what then?

Did Ben have a plan?

He could make a living with the many skill sets that he had, under his real name as opposed to his alias as well. Nobody would bat an eye, and nobody would think to look that far into his past history. 

At least, she hoped. 

Rey herself willed for something more simplistic. She wanted to lay low and avoid responsibility for as long as she could away from the eyes of the Resistance, or of any potential destiny that might spring up while her and Ben decided what they were and could be. Her friends would be more than fine without her. After all, they had probably relocated by now, and she didn’t have the slightest indication where they would go. 

Finn would hone his Force abilities and take his place as a Jedi. He would figure it out. That much she was sure.

And the force sensitive children? Her steps halted. He  _ had  _ left to go retrieve them, but had he found them? How lost was he without her right now? Not that she had tons of experience--not as much as Ben--but perhaps she should have at least said something... ? Given him a few pointers before she took off and nearly shot down most of her friends?

_ No.  _

Finn would be fine, she assured herself and her walk continued. No doubt the resistance had spun a web of their own making when recounting the events that led to their escape and whatever misfortune had traveled their way since.

For all she knew, Finn could think of her as a monster and that was enough for her to push on. 

When she stepped into the washroom and shed her clothing, choosing her shower’s temperature had never felt more like a crucial decision. Cold would give her a more refreshing start for the morning, wash away the damp grunginess from the desert that had turned into a sticky residue against her skin, or hot to warm the chill that had seeped through her from the night before and soothe her aching, sore muscles.

She decided that the halfway point was good enough.

Rey stood underneath the showerhead, and all of her previous worries seemed to melt away. At least, the ones that she could control--mostly reminding herself that her and Ben were fine and somehow in some way they would  _ make  _ it. She tilted her head up, ran her fingers through her hair and massaged her sore shoulder, working the muscle as she rolled it back. 

And they would make it to Naboo and the rest would seamlessly fall into place. Her and Ben would come at each other with a plan and it would somehow along the way fulfill the purpose that Leia Organa had promised her was unfinished. 

She still thought that was merely to help Ben find his way, but Rey was in that equation somewhere.

Sometimes she wished she could travel back to the In-Between, shake his mother’s shoulders and demand an answer to her cryptic message. Unfortunately for her, it couldn’t work like that, at least not as she was now. 

Rey almost chuckled at the thought of Ben’s reaction if she decided to test traveling between the two, but she wondered if he would talk to them if he could, what he would say. Had he thought of an apology for them? Had they for him? Did he already find that peace?

Leaving the warmth of the shower left her with a certain longing for the return of that comfort. She brushed her teeth in a foggy mirror, her hair draping over her shoulders and dripping wet streaks against her shirt. When she spit into the sink and rinsed her mouth, despite having a newfound confidence being  _ clean _ , she still wasn’t confident in her ability to face the remainder of the night. Or at least face Ben for that matter.

* * *

Low light blanketed Rey as she traversed the trail away from the Falcon--it veered off into a cluster of rocks, absent of colors that weren’t dull grays or calm beiges, enveloping her once she passed--the sand pushing like a large wave with the breeze that combed through. 

Rey didn’t stop.

Not until she reached a steep slope that led up a hill, shoving against her knees to help hoist herself up, taking tall steps upward. Humidity caused sweat and perspiration to stick to her skin, seeping through her clothes until they were almost soaked through. Her breaths came out a little quicker, but the workout was welcome in order to get rid of the sudden fear that had struck her during her nightmare.

She owed him an apology, having been rehearsing what she would say in the event that they would actually be given a moment of reprieve. The day before would have been ideal, but the words hadn’t found their way to her until now. For everything that happened on the remnants of the Death Star, on Exogol, everything with the Resistance and every moment following.

She tilted her head back, studying the open sky looming above, submerging her along with all of the other secrets that Tattooine could hide. They were at their mercy.

Then suddenly, just above her, an open sky greeted her. Clusters of rocks parted from it, thinner and sparser now opening up at the crest of a cliff. Clouds breezed past the stars, scattered and bare streaks making the darkness of night that much more menacing. Rey didn’t shy away, rather she opened herself to it, closing in on a clearing at the very top.

Rey saw Ben, having lowered himself into a spot at its crest, looking out over a spectacular view just over the cliff. Not teen feet in front of her, the top of another, the desert continuing on at a vastly lower altitude. Uninterrupted. 

Not that it had the leisurely break of fall to do nothing but  _ heal _ , but she imagined leaves built into one large pile, leaping into them and exploding into a vast collection of green shades. Her fingers curled into the sand in front of her, holding it in her palm and watching it breeze over the side of the cliff.

A soft sigh escaped her, moving to settle down beside Ben, closing her eyes and opening herself to it. 

Neither said anything.

All of the frustration, anger,  _ rejection _ ; every single feeling boiling inside her very core expelled. At least it tried. The intensity that it had grabbed her with made her force out a shuddering breath and suck the humidity into her lungs. Every heave in her chest came out steady and careful in her meditation. 

_ There is more that I need from you. _

_ You know what he’s done and I’m glad that you can offer him forgiveness, Rey, but the rest of us aren’t ready. _

_ He is the one that is holding your true potential from you. _

_ I don’t know what you want. _ She thought. To herself, to the rage coiling around her and squeezing the breath from her, her inability to  _ focus _ , to  _ think _ . 

Soft brown opened up to a black sky overhead. 

What lived underneath her skin that was trying to open her up to this newfound ferocity? Looking on with dark, empty eyes baring fangs and making her insides scream, making her nauseous and sick? 

“Rey?”

She turned her head, her eyes meeting his honest expression. 

“Where’d you go? Looked like you were daydreaming.” A broad shoulder brushed against her own. Ben’s voice reminded her of dark rooms, of haunted eyes from a man who at one point only wanted to set the world on fire. His rage had been the match. His voice resonated with a strong timber--though quiet--as he settled beside her, his legs crossed but pulled at his chest, draping his arms over top. 

“Nowhere. I just never took the time to think about everything.” Rey excused, her voice monotone. Her eyes focused on the view just over the edge, following Ben’s motion but she folded in on herself, hugged her legs tightly against her chest and her posture hunched. 

“Yeah,” Ben nodded slowly, and then his eyes were turning up to a darkened sky, the streaks of clouds, the endless sands. He didn’t believe her, that much so blatantly evident, but he didn’t press. “Yeah, I’m excited to get out of my own head for a while.”

“Is that why you’re up here?”

He shrugged. “I like the view.”

And it complimented him. His hair was a mess but in the pale light of dual moons and bright stars, he looked more handsome, and more human than she’d ever seen him. 

If the words  _ be with me _ were as simple as looking at him as she was in this moment, Rey didn’t think she’d mind so much. 

She hummed thoughtfully, her eyes trailing away from Ben to look back out over the cliff. “It’s beautiful at night. It looks less dangerous like this.” 

Ben snorted next to her, a soft amused sound as he shifted. 

“I was looking for you, you know?” Rey went on. “Making sure you were safe. That you didn’t need me.” 

“I’m sorry.” There was a gravity to his words that offered nothing but the truth. “I didn’t know.” Their heads simultaneously drifted to the sky again, a string of crystal light sailing above their heads in a burst of blue fire.

The early morning chill sent a shiver down her spine. Ben absently ran a hand down the back of her arm to her elbow, tugged her in closer. “You’re shaking.” 

Whether from the cold or from him, she wasn’t sure. At that moment, she found it very difficult to care. “I know.” But she watched him as his eyes fixed on the sky as though he was hoping for another star to shoot across the sky. He was still for a moment, his hand warm against her skin. 

“I’m hungry,” It was complicated, a switch that flipped at various times with no hint or warning. Rey watched him go, a step backward, a meaningful look her way looking as if he would say something and then he didn’t. Then he was gone--impossibly fast. The space that had been so warm beside her was suddenly left cold with no sign of him at all. Above her head, another star streaked across the sky and flickered across the empty space.

An aggravated push with an outstretched hand threw the sand harshly in one direction, the wind for the barest moment being redirected before correcting itself. It wasn’t  _ fair _ . Despite Rey’s lineage, with the belief that she had come from nothing, she had fought for a cause, had turned the heart of Kylo Ren and won a  _ war _ .

Curse her for wanting something more for herself.

Curse her for wanting more for  _ Ben _ . For her _ friends. _

Back to square one, she was no one and nothing and following a similar path that would both stem and resort to no future--not for her at least. Rey was in service to a higher destiny, to be wrung out and reused as they pleased. 

People who only  _ wanted _ didn’t make it far in the world; that belonged only to the ones who  _ took _ . 

She didn’t want that.  _ No _ , she wanted so much  _ more _ . 

Rey didn’t know how long she sat at the top of the cliff, but black fitted to a pale red and a navy crested directly at the center and spread outward. Eyes swept and traced the stars, took in each and every pattern that she could pick apart as night began to disappear, daylight swallowing up whatever had remained, jagged edges of rocks turned to looming silhouettes sitting squarely in the early dawn morning.

She made for the kitchen, rather the small cramped side room that had been fit with just enough to pass as a kitchen--an island with a couple wooden stools, a stovetop, a compact fridge and some sort of grill that Han and Chewie used to press sandwiches--or she supposed Chewie used now. 

The smell that wafted from it was heavenly, an insistent gnawing in her stomach urging her to move closer with what she hoped didn’t seem like desperation. 

Ben was there, one hand shoved into the pocket of a fresh pair of jeans and the other shaking a skillet over an open flame--some sort of omelet sliding around the pan with a practiced precision as though he had done the motion many times before. Long black sleeves were pushed above his elbows, one foot positioned carefully forward, the other standing straight and holding most of his weight. 

His hips jerked back as he flipped the omelet with a quick flick of his wrist. 

Somehow it was funny to her to think of Kylo Ren actually  _ cooking  _ on the First Order. She just assumed he had people  _ for  _ that.

Though, it was as equally amusing to imagine Ben Solo trying to cook something with Leia Organa standing over him and telling him what was or wasn’t right. Him and Han Solo cooking together and Leia smiling through the meal even if she thought it horrid. 

Did they have moments like that? Did he think about them, or were they as distant from each other as he believed them to be? Even if those types of moments didn’t happen often, did he still treasure them as if they had been together all the time?

It was both a sad and happy thought, but one she didn’t dwell on lest she reminisce about the possibility of her own. 

The pan skidded audibly across the stovetop as he turned the flame off.

“You really didn’t have to do this.” Rey remarked, standing in the doorway, only half leaning in. 

“Well, that’s great.” At her quizzical expression, he added: “It’s for me.”

“Oh,” She couldn’t have been sure what expression she was wearing, whether confusion, surprise, or a vague disappointment. A mixture of all three was a possibility that she would entertain by the various twitching that was pulling at different parts of her face. Averting her eyes, she crossed the kitchen to find  _ something _ that would satiate her hunger pangs and help to ignore the sudden drop in her stomach that had been vaguely promised a decent meal.

She’d even take a nutrition bar at this point.

Ben was just putting the omelets on a plate when she passed by him, and with the food in one hand, the other snaked around her waist to lift her onto the stool sitting in front of the island--faded and old, matching the debilitated look of the rest of the room. 

Her feet scrambled for solid ground before safely wrapping around the legs of the stool. In just as seamless a motion, the omelette slipped in front of her with a steaming mug of a dark liquid beside it. 

“I was, uh, making a joke.” He said sheepishly. 

“ _ Oh _ .” 

Another plate with the same variety was set across from her, Ben sliding his forearms across the counter and picking at his food with a fork.  _ Standing  _ as opposed to sitting. Directly across from her, and not so much as looking her way as he dug into his own meal. 

“How long have you been awake?” 

“Hm?” A quick flicker of his eyes upward. He shrugged. “Couple hours.”

Ben dug into his omelette again while Rey picked at her own. A few moments passed, her looking at the relaxed expression fitted on Ben’s face, his fork scraping against his plate emitting a scratching sound that only worsened the absence of words that she couldn’t find. 

“How did you sleep?” 

Rey almost choked, leaning over her own breakfast as bits and pieces of it fell out of her mouth onto the plate. Heat crept up her cheeks on demand, and she swallowed thickly. “ _ What _ ?” 

“Sleep.” Ben repeated, looking up again through a mouthful of food. “You fell asleep early last night.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, her voice cracking through her nervous spluttering. “I slept fin… fine.”

He didn’t ask as she squirmed under her own skin, her hunger forgotten for the moment and replaced with the possibility of asking him  _ why  _ he’d joined her in her bunk. Mulling over her own curiosity of questioning whether he even  _ meant _ to do it, or if it had been a spur of the moment decision. 

How he could be so calm about it. How  _ he  _ felt considering her own emotions were running free to where she couldn’t stop them and resonating so strongly. She wondered if he looked that close, or if it passed over him without much thought. 

She didn’t ask, and there seemed to be some sort of solemn agreement between them that it would be better if she  _ hadn’t.  _

Of course he knew that they had slept together--not in that way--but did he know about her nightmare? Surely he had sensed it through their thread. Why else would he decide to climb into her bunk in the middle of the night if just to offer comfort?

“It’s rather early now,” Rey went on. “You didn’t sleep for very long.”

“I’m used to it.”

“ _ Oh _ .”

Another pause, awkward with only the sound of them chewing to fill the growing empty space. A pin might as well have dropped if that would let them hear something, focus on  _ anything _ . 

“So,” When he looked at her again, she had to look away,  _ couldn’t  _ look just in case she would actually reveal something. Her heart fluttered in her chest, remembering when his arms were wrapped around her and her head was tucked against his collarbone, his gentle breathing in her ear-- 

Ben acted rather nonchalant about everything while her mind was screaming.

Did he  _ know _ ? 

Was he  _ looking _ ?

“Distracted?” Ben cocked an eyebrow. 

“What?” Rey’s brows pinched together. “What? No. Uh,” She rubbed at her forehead, turning away in the stool to get to her feet to take her plate to the trash. “What’s the… the plan?” She stammered. “For today?”

“I’ve thought about that.” He bobbed his head in confirmation. “There’s a village a few miles out. Some traders and scavengers there have a similar trading system to Jakku. I thought that we could go there, get a new ship--”

That stopped Rey in her tracks. 

“A new ship?” 

“I thought that we could scrounge enough credits, make a decent trade. You were on Jakku, so you probably have better bartering skills than I do but--”

Rey whipped around. “You’re getting  _ rid  _ of the Falcon?”

He shrugged helplessly. “Do we have a choice?” 

“I just thought--” She hummed, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, “since it belonged to your family, that you might like to keep it?”

“It draws a lot of attention,” he pointed out. “It’s a well known ship on Naboo, also considering who it belonged to. If we want a fresh start, that also means the ship.” 

Rey’s eyes turned downcast. “Oh.” 

Ben sat there for a moment longer, scrutinizing her expression with a slight tilt of his head. He narrowed his gaze on her. “I think that you’re more upset about this than I am.”

“What about the memories attached to it?” And she was so much more careful with her words now. “I know that it’s… well, it’s--” 

“One of the few attachments that I have to my parents?” He finished for her.

She deflated. “Well, yes.”

“Memories are nice to have, but that’s all they are.” A tick worked itself underneath his jawline, or was he merely chewing? She couldn’t tell. “You can make more.”

But Rey didn’t think that was  _ it.  _ Maybe he wanted to forget everything attached to his parents that had taken root in some form of shame and regret deep in his heart.

Maybe letting go of what was important to them would help him move on; help him forget whatever nightmares still held themselves stationary in his mind.

Ben had mentioned before that he’d talked to the memory of his father, and she wondered if he had seen the memory of Leia too. 

“Right.” She grabbed his plate and brought it to the trash as Ben came to stand next to her. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to, because for once there was  _ nothing  _ to see. Nothing that would give her a clear picture of what he felt, too.

_ That  _ was more frustrating than anything. More frustrating than getting rid of one of the most famous ships in the galaxy’s history. 

“A new ship then.” Rey nodded with a soft intake of breath. She looked to Ben with a slight squint of her own, chewing at her upper lip. “A newer model preferably. One that won’t break down after we use it for an escape.” 

“Speaking from experience?”

“Only a few times.”

Ben smiled at that, half of a smile that pulled at one edge of his mouth as both hands came to fit into his pockets. His chest heaved into what was  _ almost  _ a laugh. “If you can find one out here, then sure.” 

Before she could get a word in edgewise, he was already making for the hallway again, the sun casting a hazy light to his towering form and giving his otherwise dark hair a sleek shine to it. He was turning, looking at her, cocking his eyebrows. “You let your hair down.” He noticed. Or at least she wondered if he just  _ then  _ noticed.

Rey blinked. “My hair?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t normally look like that.”

“Well, yeah. I just got out of the washroom.” It was still wet, and she ran her fingers through it despite herself. 

“It looks nice.” He shrugged. “Like that.”

“Oh,” Rey’s face couldn’t get any redder if it tried, her heart doing somersaults in her chest. She quietly scolded it. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” And only then did he  _ actually  _ smile, one that broke from ear to ear and showed his teeth. He left, and she didn’t attempt to form a cohesive sentence, rather wished she had another omelette to stick in her mouth if just to save her from the embarrassment of what she  _ could  _ say to him. What she  _ wanted  _ to say. 

Thankfully, fate decided for her and without another word, nothing other than a meager  _ thank you  _ for the breakfast he had prepared, Rey left the kitchen right at his heels.

If he could act somewhat normal, then so could she.


	19. General Sux (Finn)

“Can you _stop_ doing that?”

Finn’s leg stopped its anxious twitching--more like an insistent shaking--when Poe hissed in his ear and delivered a forceful tap against his shoulder. It hurt, enough for him to grasp the abused area and glare gently at his co-general, but he couldn’t find it in him to protest right then. Yet. “I’m sorry if I’m not exactly in a relaxed state of mind.” Finn mumbled sarcastically, eyes cast out across the room to the door that served as an interrogation room on one of the First Order’s ships. Rather the “New Order” as Hux had put it.

The two sat side by side, their arms splayed out across a metal tabletop. Admittedly, his back had started aching from the uncomfortableness of it at least an hour ago, and he thought that he was owed the opportunity to indulge in his quirks if he couldn’t necessarily go anywhere else. 

“Yeah, well, you’re being distracting. I’m trying to think.” Poe quipped in return, but was noticeably fidgeting himself, or maybe the occasional shifting in his chair was merely because his ass hurt as much as Finn’s. 

Distracting, but Finn had said nothing. So, _he’d_ been the one staring rather intently, twitched his fingers underneath the table to no avail when he tried to convince Hux against his will to leave them alone and go back to wherever the First Order or New Order found themselves after the war? 

_You are going to leave this place and never return._

It hadn’t worked before the two were promptly escorted onto the ship for questioning, and he silently cursed the Force for not working when he _actually_ needed it to. 

If that was how the Force worked. 

Either way, they were finally out of options and all Finn knew to do was to not panic. He could ignore whatever he used to cope if they were picking who was allowed to do what whereas their joint leadership was concerned. Had it been him, they would’ve had the extra help with Ren and Rey around, but then again, that also put them out in the open and likely delivered straight into Hux’s hands. 

Kicking them out had most definitely not been the _best_ move to make, but it worked out if they put themselves somewhere safe far away from Crait. Maybe Finn would even find it in him to _thank_ Poe for that. 

Then he quickly changed his mind. 

The entrance door hissed open, the holographic scanner beeping green in confirmation before Hux appeared on the other side. His back was visible against the mirror that likely served as a one-way window that led into another room for curious onlookers, or their intelligence taking notes. 

He hovered over their table, arms folded behind his back in some strange show of authority while he leveled them with one sweeping stare. They watched him in anticipation, raised eyebrows, curious stares of their own. He said nothing at first, pulling out the chair across from them, lowering himself into it. The flaps of his jacket folded to the side and he straightened them out, leaning forward with his fingers clasped in front of him. His brows took on an arch, gaze drawn and piercing.

It phased neither of them.

“Where _is_ Kylo Ren?” Hux repeated for the umpteenth time that evening.

Finn’s lips parted and his breath hitched to make up some sort of excuse or a lie. Never in his brief history with the resistance and an even longer history with the First Order would he have stood up for Kylo Ren aka Ben Solo, but he was with Rey--a fact that he was still coming to terms with--and if they found his trail, that would lead them to Rey too. 

Poe beat him to it, alarmingly nonchalant while lounging against his chair. His knuckles collided with the tabletop with one loud and resounding tap. “Dead. Last we heard.”

Hux curled his lip, eyeing the pair critically. “Is that right?” He leaned forward, fingers intertwined in front of him. 

Poe shrugged, his arms folded across his chest. 

Finn glanced sideways and copied the motion, chewing at his lower lip. “That’s right.” He agreed.

“And am I right to assume that your Jakku scum was responsible for that?” 

“Her name is _Rey_.” Finn spit, his temper flaring. “And she killed him. I saw it myself.”

“I would tell you to go check if you don’t believe us, but I can’t imagine there’s much left to find underwater.” Poe scoffed, eyes rolling to the side.

“Yes, of course.” Hux’s chin swayed with his words, a grim smile flitting over his face that was the almost exact definition of condescending. He didn’t believe them, but they weren’t exactly trying to _sound_ convincing either. 

Finn was just surprised that Poe hadn’t taken the opportunity to sell Ren out, unless he had the same idea regarding the third to their trio--no offense to Rose--despite what had happened on Crait, or rather what they had assumed had happened and he still didn't completely believe.

They didn’t know where they _went_ but a quick check of the Falcon’s logs would at least give them a general direction or a basic coordinate--or they could just radio and ask. 

If they wanted to be civil about it. 

“We intercepted a transmission.” Hux reached into the flap of his jacket, a folder tossed across the table between them. He flipped it open with precision, meaningless babble typed out in a few pages, mostly a one-sided conversation. “Your scavenger has taken off with the New Order’s priority. _I_ want him found.”

“ _Why_?” Poe bit back a laugh, but his cocky smile was enough of an indicator as to his thoughts of the situation. It was annoying to Finn enough, no doubt Hux too. “With Kylo Ren out of the picture, you’ve got the power and title that you’ve always wanted, right?”

“He is a fugitive.” The other man answered simply. “And the New Order will see to it that he gets what he is due.”

“You mean that you want to kill him for humiliating you.” Finn mumbled under his breath, swiping a finger across his nose and sniffed, ducking his head. 

“ _No_!” Hux snapped, a vein protruding from his temple twitching with his defiance. His voice boomed across the empty room, resounding against the walls and making it seem so much bigger than it actually was. 

Finn thought that he heard an echo, or maybe he had just said the same statement twice. 

“You said that you wanted him to lose. Back when you were an _ally_ if I remember. Well,” Poe threw his arms out to the side with a shrug. “He’s lost.”

“Kylo Ren hasn’t lost until the Skywalker bloodline is dead. There needs to be a _new_ order--”

“Hence the name.” The pilot nodded in confirmation.

A puff of air released through the commander’s nose, his patience thin as he breathed out, only once. “Yes, _hence_ the name. You and the rest of your _comrades,_ Snoke, _Kylo Ren_ underestimated me. You all saw me as something that you could control. Weak, and _pathetic._ You were all killing each other for pointless reasoning and playing tug of war between yourselves, but that is _nothing. I_ will destroy worlds that do not bow to the New Order!”

“So you’re…” One brow furrowed. “Playing dress up as Kylo Ren? I can actually see the resemblance can’t you Finn?” Another shove at his shoulder, and he cast a soft glare his way with a subtle shake of his head. A warning. 

A gesture that seemed to irritate their captor more. He moved with an inhumane quickness, the chair grinding against the floor and creating a sound that made Finn grit his teeth. His hands came raining down in his sudden fury against the table. It shuddered from the sheer force. 

“I am _not_ like Kylo Ren! I did not _kill_ to get in my position! I earned my place as their commander, I have _sworn_ their loyalty!” He spit, practically foaming at the mouth. “Darth Vader wore his mask because he needed it to breathe. Kylo Ren just plays _dress-up_ to hide the faces of rebel scum parents! I am _better_ than Kylo Ren could _ever_ be. I will build a new order rather than chasing a nobody for something as overzealous as _feelings_.” 

There were two things that Finn confirmed at that moment. Hux had most definitely let his newfound position go to his head, and Kylo Ren was most certainly a touchy subject. Poe whistling low beside him only further confirmed the observation.

He straightened into his maintained posture, clearing his throat. The action was taken with practiced restraint and he waved a hand over the intercepted message with more insistence. “Tell me where they’ve gone.”

“We don’t know.” Poe answered, firm in his tone. 

Hux ducked his head to meet his line of sight.

Poe met it, unflinching. 

“Tell me where they _are_!” Overhead, a microphone crackled with the booming demand.

“I. Don’t. _Know_.” Poe hissed between his teeth, leaning forward now even with the supposed new supreme leader in his face.

“They never told us.” Finn interjected, jumping to his friend’s defense before the situation could escalate. Rather Poe would get annoyed and jump to his habit of blowing things up when he was frustrated. They couldn’t afford that, seeing as they were on the ship and had nowhere else to go. Unfortunately, Poe had no one else above him to keep his impulse control in check aside from Finn, and he didn’t consider them on the same scale. Not really. “They just left after they blew a hole in our base. You don’t believe us, you can go look for yourself.” 

“You’ll find pieces of it. Behind the cave, in the docking bay, the old lookout, hell the new lookout.” His companion cut in. “If we knew, believe us we’re not dumb enough to stick around. We were actually about to leave before you showed up.”

Finn set his elbows on the desk, propping his chin on his intertwined knuckles. His leg was shaking again, but the two men with their eyes locked in a battle of superiority distracted them from mentioning it. Their positions were equally matched.

As was their ego. 

“If you refuse to talk, we will have to do this the hard way.” Hux leveled Poe with a hardened stare. “Is that _really_ what you want?”

“I have talked. I’ve been talking all night. I can _keep_ talking, though you’re not going to like what comes out of my mouth.” He bit back. 

“Where _is_ Kylo Ren?”

“Gone.” 

“Where is he?” 

“Probably up your ass. Sounds like the two of you got a long history together that you need to sort out.” He met Hux's eyes with that usual infuriatingly cocky expression. The little twitch in Hux's facial features gave him away however, signaling his annoyance at Poe's harsh jabs and challenging tone.

The two of them were in each other’s faces, leaned over the table albeit his friend still sitting. Despite Hux still looking down on him, Poe’s glare was more lethal.

“Poe--” Finn scolded gently. 

“I will wipe out your resistance.” Hux threatened, pointing an accusing finger in their direction like he hadn't been the one that had approached them with the intention of starting something. “I kept the First Order off your trail for years. Do not think for one _second_ that I can’t just as easily destroy it.”

“Our numbers are just as limited as your own because of Exogol.” Poe reminded him. “You can damn well try.”

“ _Poe_!” Finn hissed more urgently. 

He was ignored. Regrettably. 

But he simultaneously wondered what part of it was for the sake of seeming like a mumbling idiot and what part of Poe was actually figuring out a plan of escape. While he sounded convincing, their back and forth was doing little other than picking a bigger fight. 

Well, there were two of them and only one of him. It made sense when thought of in the perspective that they both round on him at once, take him down, use his ID card and escape the room. Finn figured out that much. Even with the guards stationary outside the door, their chances were at least higher than what remained in the margin if they stayed.

Or maybe he could attempt that charm speak and _convince_ Hux to let them out of the room. It hadn’t worked the first time, but Finn was no stranger to second attempts. 

They hardly if ever worked out in his favor, but he liked to think of himself as an optimist.

But Poe was looking at him now, even while Hux circled around the table. His warning came like a resounding clap of thunder.

“If you don’t give me anything, then there is no sort of _agreement_ that we can come to.”

That turned Finn’s attention upward, his eyes following the commander’s trail. “Agreement?”

“Oh, yes.” Hux stopped at his right. “I can grant an immunity to the resistance if you give me the information that I need. Granted, that immunity would stand as long as you stay out of the way. No more unnecessary bloodshed, and you are free to ride out your pathetic lives on whatever backwater planet you find.”

Finn’s jaw tensed, his nails digging into his palms once he stole a glance to the seat beside him. He’d half expected abrupt agreement with not even a break to discuss. After all, Poe’s reasoning for leaving Ben and Rey to the elements had been to keep the group as a whole safe. All Hux was asking was that they laid their heads low and not interfere.

There was not even a crack in Poe’s resolve. 

“No way in hell.”

Time seemed to come to a standstill, Finn’s head swiveling between Poe and Hux. His stomach twisted in knots, a sudden loud thumping drowning out in his eardrums and slamming against his neck. For a moment, there was nothing. No exchange of words, no shouting or blaster fire. 

Oddly, Finn felt proud. Of Poe.

Force, if he heard him even _think_ that. 

A hand rained down again, the intermission fluttering beside of it and drifting onto the floor. Despite the calm lilt to his tone, there was a lot of built up internalized frustration that went into releasing that much force. He squirmed underneath his jaw, the same vein protruding from his neck. “It’s war then.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” 

It took him a moment to realize that Poe was talking to him, turning his head with a nod that was almost too eager. Time to put their escape plan into action. 

“Yeah, I’m thinking the exact same thing.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Without missing a beat, the two boys sprang, throwing their chairs to the side and making a break for the door. While Finn had been relatively confident that they had the same idea in mind, it became clear very quickly that they hadn’t. They didn’t take a grab at Hux who quickly teetered away from them and screamed for the guards, rather Poe slipped something out of his pocket and pressed it against the door scanner. 

It beeped once in confirmation before it opened. 

Finn had forgotten that Poe had at once been a spice smuggler. It was not beyond him to be able to steal an ID card without being noticed. 

Unlike Kylo Ren’s ship however where the guards maintained their distance and often made themselves scarce when a situation presented itself that they had to converse with him, the guards rounded into the room at Hux’s call almost immediately, forcing the two of them to back in again and raise their hands. 

“Any more bright ideas?” Finn asked as they continued to back up through the doorway.

“You were thinking it too.”

“Not exactly.” He grimaced. “Just do me a favor.”

Poe glanced over his shoulder with a quizzical expression. “What?” 

“Just get the others out of here to the rendezvous point, okay?” 

“What the hell do you mean--?” In one abrupt movement, Finn shoved him back through the doorway and slammed his elbow into the door scanner.

"Woah, woah, woah wait! Finn, are you crazy--!?" Poe's voice cut off as the door hissed shut behind them, the scanner a red twitching hologram and Poe pounding his fists relentlessly against it on the other side.

So while Finn stood in the room shooting an unclear glance to the three figures flanking him, hands still outstretched, he was elbowed in the nose. Stars burst in his vision, a sharp pain shooting up through his sinuses. He threw his head back.

With little time to recover, Finn lashed out, his boot colliding with one of the guard’s knees. They reared on him, delivering a shot of their own directly into his stomach. The blow forced him to double over, his side colliding with the hard steel and curling in on himself. 

He wrapped his arms around his abdomen and he breathed, a sickening feeling suggesting that he puke.

He didn’t, lest he further add to the humiliation. 

A shadow cast above him while he caught his breath, and he rolled out of the way just as a foot stomped against the ground where his head had been moments before, grazing his ear before he was standing again, catching all of his weight onto one leg. He stumbled.

The movement proved fruitless as the second guard slammed all of their weight into his side and shoved him into the far wall. His head pounded against metal, one hand bracing against the coldness of it as he slid down, the other hand fumbling at his side for a blaster. 

It was missing, having been confiscated when the two were escorted aboard. 

Of course. Otherwise it’d be too easy. 

Trembling fingers gripped at his skull both in frustration and his eyes that struggled to refocus through the ringing in his ears, a pounding sensation rocking against the back of it. He pushed himself to stand again despite the disorientation. His free arm wrapped around his stomach, just barely stumbling sideways as a fist collided with the wall, armored knuckles bruising steel. They swung at him again, and what they made up for in size, he made up for in speed. 

At least, until a boot collided with his ankle. Hard. 

He buckled, his back colliding with the floor and yanking what little breath he had from him, blurring figures hovering over him and drawing their blasters at the ready.

His arm flew up to deflect their kicks. A shock vibrated up his forearm and then to his bicep. He threw his foot up, knocking the blaster out of their unsuspecting hands and sending it careening across the floor with a metal clang. He dove for it, scooping it up into his hand, rolling forward, and propping himself onto one knee to face his assailants, albeit somewhat blind.

The desire to survive overpowered any hesitations he may have had.

Two gunshots rang out, one planted squarely in the chest, and one in the Stormtroopers thigh. It wavered just barely, catching its sudden limp, but it continued to charge.

Of course they couldn’t have upgraded the armor when _he_ was the one wearing it.

In one fluent movement, one of them grasped Finn’s arm and jerked him forward, one arm wrapping around his throat, another delivering a quick blow to the back of his knee and sending him down. His nails dug desperately at the arm that kept him trapped. The free hand grasping his blaster was forcibly held still.

It should’ve been easy. He’d done it so many times in half the amount it would take someone without the proper training. Except this time it was purely to defend himself. Finn hadn’t possessed a strong urge to preserve his life. It'd been all about following orders from the very start, and then protecting his friends and their values from everything the First Order had nearly destroyed. That had been all that mattered, but now even more than ever, Finn wanted to live.

And Finn would try. 

He would try.

Its towering form wavered just a moment, just long enough for another shot to echo out, grazing past his assailant’s right shoulder.

_Missed._

Another passed the left shoulder.

_Missed._

Blurred edges framed his vision, body warning him that he would pass out. Having the current upper hand, the Stormtrooper wrenched the blaster from his hand, placing the shaft against Finn’s temple.

He scratched at the tight hold around his throat that was restricting his blood’s flow. 

Tears took to his eyes, opening his mouth and breathing in. His nostrils flared, his insistent struggling becoming more weak. 

“Stop!” Hux yelled. “We need him!” Even as he was released at Hux’s order, he slumped against the wall, sweat beading his forehead with his quivering gasps. Chest heaving, he gulped and gasped in pure desperation. One sleeve wiped at his nose and blood coated the cuff of it, but he was alive. 

Through his aching and trembling muscles, he was alive and that counted for _something_. 

Finn’s glare was equally as lethal, even bleeding and backed into a corner. 

“You’re vastly outnumbered. _Give up_.” He heard Hux somewhere to his right. 

“ _No_.” Finn snapped. 

A few inches to his left, one of the chairs lay abandoned, not far but out of his reach. His fingers grasped for it, and without thinking he willed through the force, the chair shuddering next to him and inching agonizingly closer until his fingers barely grasped the seat of it. He threw it blindly, and it connected with _someone_. He heard Hux groan and fall against one of the walls, and oddly enough that brought him some sort of sickening satisfaction very unlike him.

Considering the situation, Finn thought he deserved that little pleasure at least. 

The blurry figures framed the inside of his vision. It was him and two stormtroopers, not anyone he would recognize wearing helmets--not that he was seeing much in that moment, but he held up his trembling hands all the same, _willing_ . “I was one of you.” He pleaded, wheezing. “ _Stop_! I can help you!”

For a moment, he thought that he saw their hesitation, rather _felt_ it, a slight tug telling him that they were at least _contemplating_ the possibility. A spark of hope ignited in his chest, lowering his hands and straightening his spine.

Just as quickly, that same spark snuffed out with one word that caused his heart to drop in his throat:

“ _Traitor_.”

He panicked. Finn dove for their hands, more specifically for their blaster. The base of his skull collided against the wall one final time as he was shoved and the sudden ringing returned, deafening his remaining senses as it could take no more of the blunt trauma. His eyes pinched shut, bracing one hand against his head and shaking it furiously. His legs buckled underneath him, sliding down the wall in one final show of defeat.

While that may have been true, he’d at least used that title for a better purpose. Saving Poe from the First Order, running away with Rey on Jakku, joining the resistance, that mission with Rose at the casino, and trying--yet failing--to sacrifice himself on Crait when that had been believed to have been the final battle.

It would have been a fitting way to die in his book, but not now. 

This was humiliating. 

He was a traitor, yes, but one thing he remembered from his training was that he was tumbling toward an inevitable demise that was meant for all Stormtroopers. FN-2187 was a tool for the First Order to throw away when they were done. Finn was a man that had found and lost so much more in the span of a few months than he had in his entire life before.

While he may have never been able to follow his responsibility as a soldier, he could follow it as a member of the resistance and die with dignity. Finn could smile at that, with one more ounce of spite in his very being at what they had done to so many like him that hadn’t been fortunate enough to make it out. The conditioning, the gruesome training.

The fate of the defects. 

There was a shift in the weight as a beam rolled through the chamber of the blaster in the Stormtroopers hands. The way the sight lined directly in center with his chest. 

They aimed, and an image played in the very front of his mind. All of his failures seemed to roll through at once, quick as they were that he couldn’t quite focus on them individually, and then the countless smiles, laughs, and platonic love that he had shared with so many aboard the resistance and every adventure since, coming on so much more slowly. Finn focused on that.

A stark difference between the two, but he knew his preference for which life he’d preferred to live.

His breath was pushed from his lungs, each speck of oxygen being coughed into the atmosphere and how his back convulsed against the wall behind him. Everything was a mess of blurs and distorted sounds. 

A blurred figure pushing into the room, blaster fire going off in rays of brilliant green, red and blue light, the warmth seeping through his chest and staining Poe’s jacket--now his jacket, he guessed unless Poe really wanted it back after this. Yells muffled out, blurry fringes sticking to the edge of his peripherals as his eyes fluttered and his head slumped back, a hunch in his posture.

There was a saying he repeated often. That he was raised to fight, and that was enough of a reasoning behind his actions in the past. Then that had changed when meeting Rey and on Crait when he’d realized that he fought for what he loved and what waited ahead of him.

He realized then that he was ready to die for it too. 

It was often accommodated by someone stopping him, but that didn’t seem to be the case now, much like the blood streaking down the walls behind him. He moved his hand from his abdomen, catching the faint scarlet coating his hand. A huff left his body, almost disbelieving as he dropped it into his lap and readied himself to join the Force.

If that was how the force worked.


	20. Close Kept Secret (Ben)

Peace and freedom were one of life’s biggest ploys, overcast only by the tragedy that was forced upon you when your time finally ran out. A mere illusion to give two warring sides a sense of hope, a simulation of chance, but once it was over, there was someone that always stood above everyone else no matter which side came out on top. 

In the end Kylo Ren had stood above a galaxy.

Now, the galaxy stood over Ben Solo.

It told him that he would never be a Jedi, a leader, a pilot or a son. Mocked him to not so much as try, and that it would help him live  _ longer;  _ demanded of him to fall in line and let nature run the course that it had set for him, because the war, while over, another would inevitably take its place. If he stayed out of the way, he wouldn’t be caught in the middle, wouldn’t be forced to pick and choose what he should be for whoever called for him. 

Ben was  _ supposed  _ to hide that truth for the sake of everyone else’s convenience. 

He managed to smile at the ridiculousness of it all. 

After all, it had been humorous--the things that everyone had said. That he would change, that he would be the person they needed when the time called for it, that he was everything the Skywalker, Solo, Organa legacy called for and that Kylo Ren was not a mere shadow waiting in the dark behind him anymore to drag him through. 

They had been wrong about  _ everything. _

Ben should have finished his Jedi training, should have led the resistance, should have kept to the light side and carried out the legacies that he had meant to all at once on all accounts… 

He’d been glad that he hadn’t. Even now, he never second guessed that. 

_ I think she wanted you to have the life that you were supposed to have. As Ben. _

_ Being alive in itself is a purpose. Living in peace, finding happiness is a purpose.  _

It was laughable that those two things would never coexist--not really. In a twisted sense of morality, he’d been glad that he’d joined the First Order following a being that he thought held an unwavering faith and straightforward path for him as opposed to the twisted winding maze that had directed his life before. He’d been thankful that he had taken that same being’s life, had followed a girl across  _ galaxies  _ even though he only did it because he felt like he had no  _ choice.  _

He’d been content tracking down the resistance and deciphering what his connection to Rey haD  _ meant.  _ It was safe, and familiar. Ben knew what was to come, what lay waiting at the end, or at least some version of it that gave him a peace of mind, what he  _ had  _ to do. There was no pick and choose, only  _ do.  _

Of course he’d complained and he fought but at least he knew that it was a path that he was following on his own without expectations not already brought upon him by himself. 

Now there were too many questions, too many possibilities, and each step taken in one particular direction seemed to open up hundreds more that he couldn’t simply decipher at a glance and base his choice on what was  _ moral  _ or  _ right _ . He hadn’t needed to worry about that before and damn Ben Solo for having more of a conscience. 

He was left with more questions than answers.

Everything had changed, and he couldn’t  _ fix  _ anything. 

The pieces didn’t fall into place as he believed they would have when he left the cave on Exogol with Rey. There was no written step-by-step instruction guide on the  _ Redemption of Ben Solo  _ that would tell him how to right the wrongs of a past life and prepare for an unforeseen future. 

It didn’t blur his lines together or let him see the new world outside of the black and white picture that had been thrust in his face previously, nor could he tip the Force to balance and teach him an equilibrium, and of course it would not bestow him the power to maintain it himself. 

His scale still only tipped in favor of one particular side. 

And completely unlike the side he held at an arm’s length, he still wished that he could have saved Rey from the inevitable, and watch her become more and even  _ better  _ than who she thought that she would be. 

Explain to his parents that he had finally done something  _ right.  _

He wished that he could have become someone more himself. Every day was growing more tiresome leaving Kylo Ren behind, picking up the remnants of Ben Solo and tilting agonizingly on a thin line between the two. 

Begrudgingly, he would take another lesson on the Force and the balance between the light side and dark side. Even if he knew that the Jedi believed that balance mostly meant only the light side, if he had to repeat all of the scorn and hatred he’d endured from family and friends alike, sit through every boring lecture and every bit of Padawan training and once again bear witness to his transition into Kylo Ren, he’d repeat that history if just to change this  _ one  _ moment. 

If only to change the absolute  _ miracle _ of a person that had tried to hold  _ him  _ together while she was the one that had inevitably fallen apart.

Rey was a precious small thing with brown eyes that always seemed to look into the depths of his very soul--the softest that he had ever seen--and looking past all of his darkness and directly into that small patch of light. Her hair was a disheveled mess of short waved and stray curls that twisted around her face with even the slightest stray breeze. 

It was perfect, and seeing it down had once driven him crazy in the most  _ alluring  _ ways. 

But she was meant to become more than a kneeling figure curiously inquiring about what his last words would be. The same girl that had brought him back and had done so much  _ good  _ despite being the granddaughter of Palpatine. Now, she was some strange combination of the two. 

And the look in her eyes was  _ nothing  _ compared to how he had seen them the first time. He’d seen the eyes of a frightened girl with no place in the world and a destiny thrust upon her, had seen himself, the night Luke Skywalker had entertained the option of taking his life and stopping what he would be. He’d felt her loneliness, her pain, matching his own need to  _ belong.  _ Her compassion, her need to protect, to show the kindness that nobody had ever shown him. Ben recognized Rey in a small sliver of himself.

He still recognized her now, but in the eyes of Kylo Ren. 

When he had extended his hand to her the first time, he may have been proud to witness the change, proud of himself for being someone that could follow the example, only because then destiny had been right and they would have ruled on the throne  _ together  _ as they had meant to be. When he had been the one to change, he’d questioned if things really were set in stone, and realized in that moment they  _ were.  _ They were meant to rule, meant to bring a  _ new  _ order to the galaxy. 

But he decided then, making a demand to fate and destiny and whoever had decided that  _ this  _ was the way things should be that he would not be a part of it. 

Run him through if they didn’t appreciate it. 

“--Listen to my confession.” 

The saber ripped through his abdomen  _ again  _ and it became starkly clear that the universe did not appreciate his decision. Suddenly, he wished that he’d held up one rude hand gesture to the universe and let that end the Skywalker legacy. At least then, he would have the final say. 

Let Rey--the woman who had given him more than his fair share of scars because he couldn’t and wouldn’t will himself to fight back with the ferocity that he knew he could have. Their relationship hadn’t been privileged enough to have begun on traditional courtship--an exchanging of letters, shy conversations or awkward exchanged glances from a distance--unless accidentally popping in on each other through their force bond at the most indecent times  _ actually  _ counted. 

No, that was a life of luxury that while they both had been promised, they couldn’t afford to spare it, and not a second time around--not for him. 

Blood, violence, and  _ death  _ was how their story of redemption and  _ forgiveness  _ had begun. 

It would also be the way that it would  _ end. _

When Ben tried to speak, he choked and coughed and sputtered as his new reality officially set in. 

This would be the last memory of Ben Solo, the last memory that he held close to his heart of Rey for the last few minutes that he had. That couldn’t have just been  _ it.  _ He didn’t want it to be just  _ that.  _ Even her running him through the first time or slashing him in the face or her awkward stuttering while he was in the shower would have been preferable to  _ this.  _

Ben wanted to make more of those, the good ones and the bad because at least it meant that they were getting  _ somewhere.  _

Beads of sweat and ash coated his face and his ragged desperate breathing proved more fruitless. Flames danced across the floor and scorched the walls like bright spotlights that seemed to move; tumbled and flickered and multiplied with the shadow looming across the wall. 

They were bright, even as they blurred away, but her voice brought him back even if she wasn’t there anymore. It echoed--from somewhere--somewhere he couldn’t hear. 

At first, Ben didn’t fight the other voices calling to him, all so very familiar. He would lay down his saver and take off his metaphorical mask that he’d worn so long, just toss it into the flames as far enough away as he could muster. There was a relief in that, to be put to rest at the part where his life finally met its fateful resolution. 

Only because it was meant to happen much longer ago. 

Fate had just decided to wait, toy with him for a while before handing him one final kick. 

And despite facing his death with such an open mind, he’d had too many lasts and not nearly enough firsts. He wanted to experience more--as Ben--and knowing that Rey faced a darker future and he couldn’t ensure her freedom from herself, well, it wasn’t enough to allow him to simply accept his fate. 

Seeing Rey as she was now reminded him of the way that he had looked at her when he’d interrogated her about the map that first time. 

Telling her that he could take what he wanted, that he didn’t need to pry too hard but he wanted  _ her  _ to tell him; wanted it to come from her personally. She’d looked at him like that--albeit with less resolution than what he’d offered her. 

That switch of fear to empty defiance. 

History was merely hitting a repeat with a quicker resolution. One that most certainly wasn’t granting him any favors. 

A rough breeze twisted at his hair, and he considered the possibility that it was the Force willing him back, whispering and echoing so softly with a longing whisper, reaching out to him, taking its hold.

Ben didn’t listen to it, rather he reached with a trembling hand to the hilt of the saber and pressed the ignition switch, forehead wrinkling and features folding over as the pain finally struck him. He grit his teeth, breathing in deeply through his nose and chucked the weapon off into the abyss, one hand clamped over the seeping wound as he rose into a sitting position.

His time couldn’t be coming to an end just yet, couldn’t just shrink and wrap him and Rey in some tightly sealed package to deliver to Fate like a new toy to unravel and play with until it was broken. Tear two halves apart that were on the verge already. 

Floating copies of masked shadows obscured his vision, framed by an approaching darkness with fringed edges. Sounds faded, lights blurred and distorted from white to grey and then black, leaving Ben alone with only his thoughts to guide him. His heartbeat resounded in his ears, growing faint with every wounded step, every shallow breath, each wet rasp from his throat as he limped  _ toward  _ what he believed to be the end if just to spit in its face. 

Too long had he been obscured by Kylo Ren to simply give up his freedom now. Having experienced something akin to love that stretched beyond galaxies, made a  _ friend _ , had once had a family that would be there if not in this life, then the next. Too many sacrifices had been made, too much grief and loss and hurt and pain.

He was just not learning to heal, a lesson that did not come nearly as easy as any lesson that the Jedi tried to teach him. Every hesitation that he would somehow turn back, every _hope_ that he would remain at least somewhat the same would stay with him.

_ That  _ was eternal. Taught in the split-second that it took for him to chase Rey down to Exogol and bring her back from the In-Between to remind him that he could  _ do  _ this.

And between Ben Solo and Kylo Ren, Ben was the more stubborn bastard. 

Once he approached the darkness, his eyes fluttered open to the same dark that shrouded their room. The sound of Rey tossing and turning filtered below him and without missing a beat, he descended the ladder of his bunk. 

* * *

Ben moved after Rey, leaning all of his weight against the doorframe while she opened the hatch and descended the ramp onto Tattooine. The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a ray of light over the rusted exterior of the Falcon, bathing Rey in her own personal warmth. It bounced off of her hair, highlighting her roots and giving her a sort of glow that brought out the natural color ever prominently. 

More than anyone else, Rey knew exactly what it felt like to stand in a room with even hundreds of people and still feel lost; alone. Ben was raised along the New Republic, and had attended his fair share of events with his parents while they dealt with the ins and outs of their government.

He had known even then that they had been a mere illusion, the people surrounding him distorted. Few strived to make Leia Organa feel so much larger, more important. Others would play that same part but be just as quick to turn around and make her feel small, and weak if to suit themselves in their own personal agenda. 

The one thing he could say about his mother was that even standing in a room full of enemies, she was always the one to stand above the rest of them. 

As short as she was.

Despite having seen it, despite  _ knowing,  _ he endured that knowledge to play the part of the well-behaved son whether they knew or not. Part of him sensed that in Rey, standing in the middle of Tattooine with what were likely enemies on all sides, and not batting an eye. 

Not a single care in the world if just the knowledge that she was free. No judgment. Completely above it all. 

_ You come from nothing. You’re nothing.  _

_ But not to me.  _

To Ben, Rey wasn’t a nobody. He’d stood amongst many important figures in the First Order and, to him, she always stood above it all. Above wealth, importance, and status. Above their role in shaping the future of the galaxy and the First Order. She may have grown a simple scavenger, but she’d known who she was, hadn’t needed to hide behind a role given to her against her will.

Rey never wore a mask, metaphorical or otherwise. 

And she had looked past Kylo Ren, looked through every part of him until she found Ben Solo. Through every sting of betrayal, so raw and sore after every strike made against each other, every spat, every insult, every promise that  _ he  _ would destroy  _ her _ , she never once wavered in her decision to bring him home. 

Ben reminded himself of that, every time that small part of Kylo Ren threatened to pull him back. That the man who had sought comfort in his darkness still dared his heart to bleed for Rey, the savior of the galaxy, and finding safety in her when his cries to his parents, his uncle, and his peers had gone unheard.

It seemed pathetic back then, the Supreme Leader of the First Order finding such solace in his enemy, but even with the return of his old identity, that connection never wavered.

When they arrived at the village, somewhere behind him, he heard Rey’s breath hitch. It was not unexpected considering it held a vastly similar atmosphere to Jakku. Different alien species milled about discussing trade and those much more well off gave petty sums for large hauls despite their wealth.

An unfair society where one being reigned supreme and the others were an insect under their boot scrounging for the smallest bits and pieces of things in the hopes that the supreme would give them enough food for a full day. 

Rey’s eyes bore into the back of his head, and he entertained the fact that if he put his fingers there, he would feel a hole. 

The realization that they were both getting alarmingly well at hiding their minds from one another was becoming more frustrating than he could form into a cohesive thought, only because that energy was spent keeping her from shifting around in his head too hard. And he didn’t know how she felt about any of  _ this.  _ Not if she didn’t tell him. 

But she couldn’t know that he  _ knew _ , that he had seen what she had feared herself to be and how for a split moment similar to the sensation that sometimes pricked at  _ him _ : she  _ liked  _ it. 

There was a slight skip to her step that reminded him of some form of dance, albeit still a few paces behind. He didn’t have to look to see it, hearing the irregular pace at which sand was being kicked into the air, or maybe he was merely disregarding her impatience because of how long they had been walking now. 

Impatience was the correct word. 

“Not used to the heat?” Rey asked suddenly. 

The glaring heat on Crait was miniscule compared to Tattooine. Even with the setting sun, the pair was drenched in sweat. A blustery wind blew hot air through his shirt and spine all the same, and he huffed. 

“Not like you.” He answered. “I’ve been to planets with all variations of different climes. I prefer the colder ones.”

She hummed, amused, nodded in confirmation. “The cold suits you better, I think.”

“You think so?”

“Coming from a man who enjoys wearing all black?” Her tongue clicked with her answer. “Yes, I do.”

Ben didn’t comment, but Rey was already running ahead to something she knew  _ better _ , the familiarity of the life that she had lived before, traversing the different stalls with a critical eye and one sweeping stare. One quick rotation to the opposite side and she was coming back to him. Nobody spared either of them a glance, except one small avian-like creature that glared gently at the assumption that they were thinking of stealing. That radiated off of him strongly enough.

“Their system is a lot more expensive than on Jakku.” Rey reported, squinting up at him against the harsh sunlight. He provided her some cover from it at least. “An artifact used to get you a few days worth of scrap equal to a few hundred credits. It might be a bit difficult to scrounge up what we need, even with a decent trade. Let alone finding anyone willing to trade a ship.”

His head swiveled around, hands on his hips, leaning all of his weight into one leg. “Why don’t we split up in the meantime?” He went on to suggest. “If you want to head one way and see what you can find out, I’ll go see if anyone is willing to trade.”

Rey seemed to hesitate, but nodded albeit with great reluctance. “Sure. I’ll meet you over there when we’re done.” She pointed to a small shack sitting stationary amongst the other tents and without wasting a beat, she was gone, kicking up whatever sand she could in her path and disappearing amongst the sea of bodies. 

Ben took off the opposite way. 

“Two hundred credits.”

Ben didn’t have to focus to know that the negotiator was hungry. His scaled facial features said it all. What was supposed to be muscular was gaunt, and his eyes were sunken and desperate, pleading. He spared a glance as he walked by the two arguing over one large piece of steel. “At least one-fifty? That was nearly half of an X-Wings engine from the First Order!” 

“An order that lost the war.” The trader scoffed. “I’ll give you seventy-five.”

“One hundred or you won’t get the parts!” The alien quipped. “And I doubt anyone else will be able to get this type of engine intact! It’s from a newer model fighter.”

“You will take seventy or I will have you beat, take the parts from you and you will get nothing.” The trader decided.

The negotiator scoffed, but of course reluctantly agreed with the terms. He was smaller, more frail and if it came down to a fight, it was obvious who would come out on top between a trader who looked like they ate their fair share and then some, and someone who was on the verge of starving. 

He did take it, and with a quick flick of his wrist, Ben managed to slide a few more coins into his pocket before moving on.

The sun beat down on him with a vengeance, casting his shadow across the desert that grew taller as it moved overhead into one large arc. Ben kept walking, steering himself toward what looked to be a parts shop. If anything, he could probably negotiate credits in exchange for scrapping the Falcon, or maybe the owner would know anyone willing to trade for a newer ship.

Tattooine used to be a wasteland, a dumping ground for those who were unfortunate enough to end up there and a breeding ground for anything  _ bad.  _ Now people in small communities gathered there, made  _ something  _ of it, and yet he wondered why it always had to be on the planets that had quite literally nothing but the barest of resources. It couldn’t have been a jungle, or even an arctic planet. Bits and pieces of ruins and ancient structures were picked clean for whatever it may hide, littered along the way as people insisted that a piece of rock held some sort of history.

He thought that he recognized some pieces of things native off-planet as well. 

Ben stepped inside of it, traversing down the wall of random gadgets and tidbits sitting stationary in one cramped, shoddy tent. At the very back, there looked to be a repair bay--a small wooden table with an assortment of well-maintained tools and broken things sitting on it gave him the impression--and storage boxes decorated with more than a few locks and tied shut with rope. 

Grabbing a datapad sitting on the workbench, he tapped the screen to find it locked tight with a password. 

“Do you  _ normally  _ walk into people’s tents and touch their stuff without asking?”

Ben stiffened, his fingers subconsciously reaching under his shirt for his lightsaber but he refrained, setting the datapad down onto the workbench and whipped around. 

It was a woman who stood level with his chest, looking up at him with harsh brown eyes and heavily tattooed arms crossed with a look of utter contempt. Her hair was red and blonde as if part of it had been bleached by the sun, pinned up in one intricate braid atop her head and fit with massive goggles. Her clothes were similar to what most everyone wore on Tattooine: The barest. One of her arms--while he wasn’t  _ trying  _ to stare--was mechanical from her elbow to the tips of her fingers.

She squeezed by him to retrieve the datapad, rubbing her wrist against the screen as if cleaning it from where Ben had touched it earlier.

Strangely, he didn’t know if he should have been offended by that or not. 

“You know, looking over your shoulder should be second nature. Especially out here.” She pointed out. Once she had determined it was clean enough, she set the datapad down, looking over him as if just taking him in for the first time. There was an arch to her brows. “You’re going to get heatstroke.”

“What?”

“Wearing that?” She gestured vaguely to his clothes, and he plucked at it with two fingers. 

He shrugged. “I’m not from around here. The last time I was here, Tattooine was a wasteland. I guess I’m just ignorant where it’s involved.”

“Yeah,” She cracked a smile that tugged at high cheekbones, followed by a huffed laugh. “I gathered that much. But innocence doesn’t bleed ignorance.” 

“Right.” Ben’s eyes followed her when she moved toward the back of the tent, setting her metal appendage on the worktable. It was old, but more well-kept than the rest of the junk surrounding it. He couldn’t help but stare, no matter how used to it he considered himself to be. 

“It’s just a temporary arrangement.” She went on, as if reading his mind--as ironic as that was. “I’m going to get a better one, granted when I can afford it.” With nimble fingers, she peeled back the layers of synthetic skin and biofibers to expose the elbow joint and started unscrewing. 

“I’m assuming that it took you a while to learn how to do that?” A lame attempt at conversation, and he knew that even when she turned her head to him with a skeptical stare, lips pressed together as if contemplating whether or not she should offer an answer. 

She did, albeit with a small awkward laugh. “My father was a mechanic.”

And her use of the word  _ was  _ hit him square in the chest, wondering silently how most conversations he had ended up with confessions of dead familial members. She must have noticed his expression as she shook her head and continued. 

“When the First Order took over the Empire, he was downgraded to a petty scrapper. It was a growing industry, one of the most profitable in some of the more industrialized planets, but working conditions became harsher, pay was cut and,” She shrugged. “Overall things just became harder.” With one final twist of the screwdriver between a slot in the metal, she flexed her fingers. It was stiff and awkward, but it worked. “I haven’t talked to him in a while though. They just thought that if they followed their rules then everything would be fine.”

His stomach dropped.

“And it wasn’t.” Breathing in a sigh, she rose to her feet, rotating her arm and giving it a quick once over. “But that’s just the reality of things. A lot of people are at a loss right now with the end of the war. Maybe things will improve, but maybe they won’t.”

A surge of guilt swelled inside of him, but her face was neutral, tone even as if that had been so easy to come to terms with. “He wasn’t the best at parenting anyway. Turned his back for a few minutes and I wandered straight into a Nexu’s den.” Her eyebrows cocked upward. “Oops.”

Ben merely observed as she screwed the forearm to her elbow and pieced some smaller components to the joint, her one hand surprisingly nimble, but the way she confided in him so easily made him surprisingly uncomfortable. And also still completely clueless. 

“And he made you that arm I’m assuming?”

“Yes, but because he was a scrapper, he taught me everything I knew about fixing things with basic scraps and other salvageables. And I left.”

“To Tatooine of all places?”

“You’re one to talk being here without knowing much about the climate.” She challenged. “Some things just aren’t meant to be, no matter where you are. So you just find a place to settle.”

A silence settled between them and with that, she breathed. “So, what do I owe you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You sat here and listened through my long spiel, so what do I owe you for your time, um?”

“Ben.”

“Ben?”

“Just Ben.”

“Alright, just Ben I’m Tera.”

“Tera?”

“Just Tera.” 

Ben cocked a smile at that, deciding against offering any sort of comment. “I need information about a ship.” 

“You’ll have to be more specific. There’s a lot of ships that come and go through here.”

“I’m looking to trade my ship, hopefully for a newer one.”

“Where are you headed?”

Ben hesitated, settling with: “Let’s just say it’s in the Naboo system.”

She whistled long and low. 

“That’s extravagant.” She nodded thoughtfully. “If you’re looking to get there from here, it’s going to cost you.”

“How much?”

She narrowed her eyes, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek.

“More than you could earn in a lifetime here. Trust me.”

Ben deflated, his features slowly slipping from his normally neutral expression.

“You might be able to find some people looking to hand out bounties but other than that you might have to scavenge like the rest of us and hope for the best. Unless you have a decent ship for trade, there is a guild specifically for that, that way.” She pointed in the direction that Rey had gone.

It was rare, kindness in a place like Tattooine where scavengers and hunters thrived, where even a dead body went into a processor. But for some reason, she set him on edge, weighing him down with the need to repay the favor, as if it would come back to bite him when he didn’t pay her back.

The tension left his body and his shoulders dropped. “I can’t pay you for this.”

“Consider it a courtesy.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

“There hasn’t been democracy since before the reign of the empire. You can’t count on any government to save your life so you have to do it yourself. If I can help where I can, I will for the right person.”

“And you don’t think that the worst person could change even if they tried? People can’t stand together to make their own democracy?”

“The way I see it, right and wrong tend to change when someone really needs something. Democracies die every day and I tend not to cry when they do. It’s just how things are.”

“And that’s just the truth?”

“The truth is a matter of circumstances. You tell it when it's convenient then lie when it isn’t.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t trust me?” When he didn’t offer an answer, she approached him. “If you don’t trust me to do it for yourself, do it for your friend.”

“What?” He gawked. Despite his retreat, she persisted.

A dimpled smile stretched both sides of her lips. “I saw her when the two of you split off.” Tera mused. “She’s cute. I can tell that you care a lot about her.”

“It’s not like that.” He mumbled.

Her lips were parted, soft and with clear doubt. “You don’t sound so sure.”

He wasn’t. 

Never had Ben ever thought of Rey as  _ cute-- _ beautiful even in the worst of moments yes--but he’d always held her in such high regard, and yet he’d always failed to remember how favorable of him she was even after everything. 

He needed her to calm the rage that sometimes built inside of him without warning, needed to know that there was a  _ reason  _ that he had come back, and whether knowing or not, she needed his ambition, his strive to do more than what was originally planned. 

They each filled the other’s vacant space, and it wasn’t possible that she  _ didn’t  _ care for him. Through the Force, he felt her fascination, her sympathy and her admiration all at once. She cared, and yet at the time he had felt that, his hand was still empty grasping at nothing.

Bright,  _ shining  _ Rey who believed in Ben Solo had refused him even if she had urged the word  _ please  _ from his lips _.  _ He’d let go of his courage, his dignity, and showed her a display of control to let her know that he had  _ meant _ it. He willed her to understand, and to agree with him and she hadn’t. There were still obstacles that they needed to traverse,  _ together. _

His brow creased with distress. “Thanks for the information, but I’m going to go find her.” Without waiting for a response, Ben ducked his head out from under the tent, scratching at the nape of his neck and looking around for his missing companion. He nearly missed it, the commotion erupting from one of the tents in the direction that she had gone and his feet subconsciously took him toward it, their connection surging stronger than the Tattooine heat.

Ben wouldn’t consider her a teammate.

Nor would he put her on the scale of a  _ friend.  _

His weakness, he would consider.

_ Goodnight, Ben.  _

But the gentle kiss that she’d pressed on the underside of his jaw the night before brought more questions into the open about their relationship, and he didn’t have an answer beyond what they were meant to be. 

Every part of his life, he had begged for attention and respect. Each person he knew had let him down in some way or another, and yet he desperately wanted her to stay, to convey how important it was that they stay together.  _ Beg  _ it to be what it was even if she had taken his hand in the end and renewed some strange form of hope that stayed with him after he had been brought back from the brink.

A Dyad still tumbling toward an end that he could scarcely see. What he  _ wanted  _ so badly beyond that was not a possibility that he could entertain. Not now.


	21. Believe In Me (Rey)

Rey winced when the small of her back collided with the edge of a table. So, she had decided that the good part about splitting up was that she could find a place to lay low and _breathe_? And she had figured out rather quickly that the universe would not grant her any such reprieve, even if she had done what she was _supposed_ to do and asked around about who may have been interested in making a decent trade. 

She’d kept her identity a secret, hadn't let  _ anyone  _ know that she was currently traveling with the previous Supreme Leader of the First Order, and yet even refraining from drowning her sorrows in alcohol and sacrificing her mental health to denial, it still wasn’t enough for the universe to say “enough is enough”. 

One of the patrons had gotten handsy, and all it had taken was a quick sweep of two fingers over his eyes to get him to quite literally walk out of the tent and rethink his life’s decisions. She’d made a second attempt to the owner, only for him to bellow out something about a Jedi’s mind tricks before a mob had seamlessly rounded on her and fought amongst themselves as to how the bounty would be split. 

She’d believed that there were no more bounties on Jedi, but then it occurred to her that she was quite literally the  _ last  _ Jedi, unless somehow Ben and Finn counted, and it was not beneath the drunk bigots to attack force sensitive children. A problem for another time, but at least Ben had the luxury of everyone thinking he was  _ dead _ . Otherwise his alias would have been screamed across the galaxy and plastered on every possible shred of paper that could be found with the promise of credits equivalent to at least one hundred years on Jakku--a  _ thousand.  _

Again, not her problem--at least for now until they were inevitably found out.

Rey ducked to the ground as another hand grasped for her, knees burying themselves into the sand as she grasped fistfuls of it and threw it into her assailant’s face. With one hand pushed outward--the force effectively shoving him back--she grabbed a drink from one of the tables and turned to smash it into the jaw of another. Shards of glass showered over her as it connected, a liquid that looked worse than the juice that Luke had ingested on the island stuck to her skin in a slimy residue. 

She scowled. 

Scaled fingers grasped her wrist and yanked her back, her hip colliding with the side of a stool. It fell, catching the tip of her foot to which she hooked around the legs and threw it back, effectively tripping up the man that held her. They both tumbled. She hit the sand again with a gasp, her rib colliding with the stool that she’d thrown and forcing a sharp hiss of pain through her teeth. With a soft groan, grasping the edge of one of the tables, she pulled herself upward and stumbled, lips pressed together tightly and taking great care to not breathe too hard lest her ribs scream more than they already were.

Dark shapes surrounded her on all sides, their chatter too incoherent for her to make out all at once. She exhaled heavily through her nose, each breath coming out shorter and more forced than the last, but she maneuvered back despite holding the table for support.

Her steps retreated, hand grasping for her saber and pressing the ignition switch. It thrummed to life, a bright crackling in the otherwise dim light of the tent. “Leave now.” She warned. “You get  _ one  _ chance.”

They laughed at her, maneuvering around her in a wide circle but noticeably maintaining their distance. Several gripped blasters in their hands, the barrels aimed on her and it was comedic almost; how  _ useless  _ such things were against her. 

As they would find out. 

“Or what Jedi scum? What will you do?” One persisted and she continued to retreat, her back brushing against the far wall, a light saber gripped tightly in one hand, the other still wrapped around her waist. 

Her brow slanted sideways, and she found herself standing a little taller even if her muscles screamed against it. The sudden feeling of surviving overshadowed any hesitation that she had--as little as there was. 

“I’ll  _ show  _ you.” 

Rey threw her hand outward, channeling through the force and bidding it to her aid. Seamlessly it obeyed, a rope hanging on the wall whipped outward and wrapped around the throat of the assailant in front. When she closed her fist, the rope tightened yanking the surly drunk forward with a loud and resounding  _ snap  _ at the side of her feet.

A tray careened across the room with another flick of her wrist as her assailants charged, slamming against the ankle of another and tripping them up. Rey ducked to the ground effectively sliding underneath them, rolling onto her back as it returned, flying inches from her face and nailed another directly in the chest. They fell back with a loud gasp and a yell.

Rolling to her feet, a knife flew through her fingertips, slicing through skin into a hand that reached for her. With a toss in the air and a flick of her wrist, the metal blade slipped from its nestled home and buried itself into the attacker’s throat. She leaped over their body when they crumpled at her feet, spinning in the air and throwing the lightsaber down in a flurry of light and loud static.

It connected with another, the blades resonating between her and the newcomer in a crackling frenzy. She pushed against the sudden strength, but neither gave in. With a shove, her saber dipped itself into the sand, a hard push against the air effectively shoving her back.

She slashed at their legs, but they flipped over her, an arm grasping around her throat and tugging her backward, but rather than a choking  _ suffocating  _ feeling, she felt a sudden surge of comfort, willing herself to take a breath, her earlier adrenaline giving way, rapid breathing slowly giving way to an air of calm as the rising and falling of her chest finally settled. 

Sweat rolled down her spine and plastered every part of her, the sharp smell of ozone clotting the air with the shot of a blaster that was effectively blocked. A twitching crackling saber formed a protective barrier in front of them, and when she looked up, she saw the familiar face of her companion. 

_ Angry.  _

Admittedly, he was a very welcome distraction, but him wrapped around her so tightly brought back the memory of him in her bed and it was becoming so much more vibrant now--

_ No. No.  _ She gently scolded herself.  _ Stop it.  _

He hadn’t said very much since breakfast, hadn’t spoken much on the trekk  _ there _ , and she couldn’t find the words she so desperately wanted to express to him without bumbling like an idiot or thinking about him in the shower.

Or both at the same time.

Not then, and not now. 

Truthfully, she was too distracted by everything current in her life to focus on the in-betweens. And that was all that mattered.

Thankfully, he filled the silence for her. 

He didn’t look at her, his eyes focused on the dozen physical forms laid out in front of them. His expression was torn in half, a troubled mind succumbing to some sort of feral bloodlust.

“If  _ anyone  _ lays a hand on her, I’ll cut it off.” Ben warned, snapping, a tremor rumbling through his stiff form still forming a protective barrier around her. 

“Ben!” Rey gasped in relief.

“You’re trembling.” He told her, and she hadn’t realized it until now, but he was already ushering her behind him, holding a protective arm outward. The crease in his brow deepened. “Don’t do  _ anything _ , just let me handle it.”

But they were scared. Not of him--although his presence most certainly did help--but while they had been adamant about keeping her alive at first, now they were clearly out for the kill, judging their threat and deeming it necessary to give up the extra credits if just to keep their own heads intact. 

Except there were two jedi, double the reward, a few credits proving a worthy sacrifice. 

“ _ Handle  _ it?” One of the patrons sneered. “You’re surrounded. What can  _ you  _ do?”

“Add in a few more,” Ben shrugged, a taunt in his haunting tone. “The odds  _ might _ be in your favor.”

And they laughed again. Rey almost felt bad for them, feigning that bravery when several of their own had fallen already.

“You smug--” A chair came flying through the air, exploding into a shower of splinters against the cocky assailant’s skull. 

Ben blocked a fist that was in motion with his wrist, grabbing the base of another attacker’s neck and shoved their head toward the bar.

“Ben--”

Her companion gripped his lightsaber, dodging to the side of another fist and with a force push, she was ushered out of the way to safety, and another invisible tug yanked her out of the way of a charging hand.

Rey sighed. There was no going back now.

They were found out.

The alien that had been shoved braced against the bar, saving his face from being effectively bashed in. He rounded on them again, but one force shove slammed his head against the corner of the bar and made his earlier struggling useless.

“Well,” Rey gripped her own weapon, bracing her back against his own. “I’m not going to let you do this alone.”

One of the bargoers turned around with a snarl, smashing a glass against the edge of the counter in sharp and jagged edges.

They stabbed wildly at Ben who stepped back, brushing against her and ushering her with him. He stepped to the side, a dark almost sadistic grin etching itself across his face as he swiped his feet out from underneath of him, raising his saber into the air and slamming it into the back of the attacker’s spine. With a grunt of effort, he yanked it out, free of blood and grime, bracing his saber around another man’s neck, pressing it tightly before dragging it in a loud popping hiss across the man’s throat. 

The line in his jaw tensed, and his already-perturbed demeanor turned downright  _ hostile.  _ An elbow slammed into his stomach, and he barely flinched, features crinkling into pure rage, his force vice grip he held on her never wavering much to her irritation.

She effectively shoved back at him, making him release his mind grip, but her saber flew from her own hand and landed somewhere across the room. It didn’t come to her when she called it.

Shards of broken bits and pieces flew about the room with it, striking at skin, drawing  _ blood _ . Every strike was met with an equally forceful one, Ben maneuvering around her assailants in some form of dance, each step cunning and calculated, each move perfect and accounted for. 

It was not the same brutality exhibited in Kylo Ren. Rage didn’t drive him through the fight, rather he fought with the intentions to kill swiftly. Not like she had where they’d been left to gurgle and spit their own blood onto the floor. 

They didn’t stand a chance. 

Bracing a hand against his arm, he begrudgingly dropped one of the men in his grasp, switching off his saber and putting it back into his waistband. 

He rolled his shoulder. “Come on.” He told her. “Let’s  _ go. _ ”

* * *

Ben had taken to standing by a window in the cockpit of the Falcon at what quite literally felt like the end of the world, his saber settled in one hand and an expression equally ill-suited as though he were trying to figure out whether to worry about what had happened back there or worry more about what was currently happening in  _ here.  _

He must have gone with the former. 

Rey was still coming down from the events of the day, dehydrated from the sun having beat down on them from their trek back. She’d had some water, at least until someone decided to try and turn in a bounty. Ben had played the hero card while she was perfectly fine putting them all into the ground herself.

Perhaps that was the root of the problem. Her troubled gaze fixed on her hands.

He hadn’t said  _ anything _ , hadn’t remarked about what exactly  _ happened _ , hair damp and frazzled by sweat, face molded in irritation. His hand ran through it, untangling the knots. The silence, she decided, was not preferable to scolding her, admitting that she had overdone it, that she was supposed to be avoiding conflict, avoiding drawing attention and now they had to find somewhere else to trade the ship--and part of her felt guilty that she was satisfied they were able to keep it a little longer.

But Rey was sweaty, scratched, bruised and irritated. Maybe the silence  _ was _ better. She’d tried to recount the events that led to where they were, but they wouldn’t slow down enough for her to keep up with. She couldn't hold on as each memory overrode the next, then the next, and so on.

It was painful.

She finally looked up.

He was watching her, hand outstretched with her saber in his palm face up. A vague gesture of waving it toward her urged her to take it, but that seemed like one of the lesser important things right now. At the top was the altercation on Tattooine moments earlier, and after that was that they hadn’t any clue as to where they could take the Falcon for a decent enough trade than could be offered on Tattooine within relative distance--not that distance and time was a problem that they currently had. 

Rey didn’t let her mind wander too far down the specifics because there was no Resistance breathing down her neck and demanding justice for the actions of Kylo Ren, she wasn’t currently running from anything or being expected to fill some higher destiny when she was only just beginning to figure out herself. 

Focus on the small things.

“Here,” he said, more insistent this time. “Take it.”

Right. She reached out to retrieve it, reliving the moments that had caused him to take it from her in the first place. They would be okay. They had to be. He may have looked disappointed now, and fearful, but at least she had derived no satisfaction from what she had to do. Rey’s actions had been decided purely in the heat of the moment with adrenaline rushing through every part of her body and with no other goal than to get  _ away. _

“I’m sorry.” Were her first words, his hand still hovering as though waiting for her to take that too. 

She didn’t know if she should.

The look on his face was unreadable, and she didn’t delve into their connection to judge how he may have been feeling in the moment lest it affect her too. “I know. It’s okay.” She saw him sigh, a brief hitch of his shoulders, defeat and acceptance and other things that she couldn’t place a name to in that moment. 

It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay at all. 

She looked up at him, met his gaze. It was stern and he was frowning, but there were few times when he actually smiled. He was a shadow against bright lights, his jaw tight but looking at her with concern and exasperation both.

“I’m…” Her eyes crinkled, willing the tears away before they could come and interrupt whatever was actually cohesive in that moment. “I was asking around about the ship, and my force charm didn’t work on them and the next thing I know…” She shrugged helplessly. “They… They attacked me.” 

“You could’ve gotten hurt.” He snapped gently. “Or worse. You were being  _ reckless _ .”

“You were the one that suggested we split up if I recall.” Her gaze fell, shoulders drooping. “You didn’t have to get involved. It was my fault, and I was handling it.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Ben disagreed, his outstretched hand wavering. “Why wouldn’t I get involved? I care about what happens to you.”

She didn’t know what to say to assure him.

“I felt you through the force.” His brow tensed and relaxed sequentially. “I was  _ worried  _ about you. I thought that something had happened. I thought that I was too  _ late _ .”

“I was fine on my own. I was trained by members of  _ your  _ family, remember?” Rey attempted a smile, but his hardened gaze warded against it. It dissipated immediately.

There was a small hint of dryness in his tone, and his lip twitched into a smile that didn’t quite reach the happiness that she’d hoped for. “You didn’t see the way that they were looking at you. Like you were just some…” Ben’s eyes darted away, bracing his hands against his hips and cursing under his breath. He was already moving from the cockpit to the hallway. She followed. “Some prize. Just a reward despite you  _ stacking  _ bodies.”

“What  _ else  _ was I supposed to do?” She scoffed, passing through the various hallways until they were walking down the loading ramp again, the wind weaving around her legs and whipping against the fabric of her tunic. “Let them kill me? Wait for their reinforcements to arrive? You would have done the same. You  _ have  _ done the same.” She took a step closer on the ramp, and he didn’t move, rather stood rigid at the very bottom. “I’m okay now, thanks to you. Just let it  _ go _ .”

With that, Ben whipped around. Her heart pounded rapidly at the sudden spike of energy between them, crackling and spitting even though he hovered nearby. She refrained from shrinking back to get away from it, bracing herself to walk the remaining distance instead.

“You think that I can just  _ forget _ ?” His fingertips dug into his skull, scratching insistently as if something was trying to pry itself  _ out _ . He breathed, stilled himself. Ben was struggling. “I didn’t want you to get involved because I didn’t want you to embrace that anger, or that  _ hate _ . You were, and I didn’t want you to fall to that part of you.”

“What part?” Her features fell when he refused to look at her, and she ducked her head to the side attempting to meet his gaze. “The dark side?” He didn’t answer, and she pressed harder, dumbfounded. “You think that I will fall to the dark side? Am I that  _ incapable _ ?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you insinuated it.”

“Fine. Tell me you won’t.” He went on, challenging, throwing a hand out to the side and gesturing further. “Go on.” He continued. “Lie to me. Tell me that you’re fine. That you’re just worried about the resistance--your  _ friends _ . Everything that has happened.”

“I won’t,” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, willing him to listen. “The past is the past, but what we have now is  _ everything _ .” She placed a hand on his shoulder, reached into the farthest part of him. For the barest of a second, it was intoxicating. His touch, his  _ build.  _

Rey took a breath, the air suffocating and  _ dry _ . 

“I’m just trying to get you to  _ deal  _ with it, rather than shoving it aside and misplacing it. I saw your dream. I  _ know  _ that you’re scared and I know what it is that you  _ think  _ that you’re going to do.” He uttered, almost inaudible, but she heard every word. It hit her, each word sharper than the last. “You think that your friends betrayed you, and you’re afraid of what you think is inevitable, but it's not.”

And she broke as he drilled into her. Her hands braced into fists at her sides. She cleared her throat, but her voice came out rough. “How much did you see?”

“More than you did.” 

“Is that why you moved into my bunk?” Her trembling stare found him. “Do you even remember?”

“I was awake.”

Rey trembled hard, her lips quivering and he reached for her but she backed off, studying her hands as if she had committed a horrible crime. In ways she had. She swallowed hard, shoving past him and while he grasped for her, she shrugged him off, continued back up the ramp.

“I  _ can’t _ \--” Her frown deepened, jawline shifting as she swallowed. While her eyes clamped shut, the weight of his hand moved against her back, then heavy and warm, his fingers gripped her elbow, gently turning her around. She breathed in deep. 

“Just  _ talk  _ to me.”

“I  _ promise  _ you that I am doing the best that I can. It comes and goes, but it only comes when I have to  _ defend  _ myself, defend  _ you. _ ” And the words came out seething through her teeth, not looking back as the sounds of his footsteps trampled on behind her. “I shouldn’t have to  _ explain  _ myself for that.”

“I’m not asking you to explain, I’m asking you to take a second and  _ process  _ it.  _ Control  _ it.”

“You’re not processing things either.” She met his startling focus with an equally determined glare of her own. 

“That’s not true.” He almost sounded hurt, and her heart ached. 

“ _ Nothing  _ is true anymore.” She snapped. “Have you stopped to think about things since Ben Solo came crashing back? Your parents, the resistance,  _ me _ ? Do you even know what you’re  _ doing _ with the life that you’ve been given back?”

“Yes, I do.” Ben took a breath, deep and ragged and she had no other intention than to look at his face, a sudden gust of wind blowing through that whipped both of their clothes back. Made her cross her arms over her chest despite the heat. “My  _ parents  _ are dead, the  _ resistance _ \--my first home will never trust me, and  _ you  _ are the one worrying about me when it should be the other way around..” And he reached for her despite her flinching, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Flashes of memories come and go, but I know what’s real and what isn’t. I have taken plenty of time to  _ process. _ ”

Rey’s face was pained as it fell, a sensation of guilt settling over her. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid of an inevitable destiny, of what I do not think that I can control. That nobody will be there. No family, no friends, no  _ you. _ ” She watched him, waiting for reprimand, waiting to be told that she was wrong, that her feelings were fake and that her anxieties were irrelevant.  _ Begging  _ to be told that she was something else,  _ anything  _ else. “And it is not helping me that you do not seem to harbor any faith in me.”

One hand pressed against her temple at the arrival of a headache, and she breathed.

“Do you normally have trouble sleeping?” He asked.

“Do you?” She shot back.

“Yeah. I always have. Since Snoke, since the Jedi Temple, the First Order.” He shrugged, as if that was so simple, so  _ normal.  _ At least for him.

“Any good dreams?”

“A few. They started after I met you,” He admitted. “There’s nothing you can do, except to remind yourself that that’s all it is.” His hand gripped the doorway above his head, the other shoved into his pocket. “When I moved into your bunk, did you have a nightmare then?”

“No,” Rey whispered and she knew that was true. “I felt…  _ safe. _ ”

“Because of me?”

“Yes,” She choked down the emotions welling inside of her throat, tears brimming in her eyes that she forcefully blinked away. “Because you were  _ there _ .” 

“And you think that it would be better for us to split apart?”

She needed him to know that wasn’t it, that it was an act to remain on guard, just to let him know how vulnerable she was. Just like him. He wasn’t alone in dealing with any of his demons, and neither was she.  _ Be with me  _ could have meant anything but to her there was only one answer. And it wasn’t the one that she wanted.

Rey lifted her chin, straightening. She huffed under her breath, eyeing up his towering form in front of her. There was no question as to why he brought her such a feeling of security whenever he was around. “No, just--”

“You’re afraid of a  _ possibility _ . Of what you think is merely destined to be.” He confirmed, placing his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs brushing against her collarbones lingering a little too long before he let go. 

“ _ Yes. _ ” To her, Ben was an anomaly. He was both wrong and right and tipping on a scale that threatened to turn upside down and around. Fate had a way of following down a similar path even if nobody wanted to walk down it.

“But it’s not.” A sad exhausted smirk followed by a breath pushed through his nose. “If you stay with me.”

“I want to.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I don’t expect you to understand. You don’t know what it’s like to be afraid to close your eyes, to be trapped in your own head unable to get out.”

And that seemed to hurt him, only because he  _ did  _ understand. He understood better than anyone. 

“I know that you do. I do. I’m just-- I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She inhaled a trembling breath. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The palm of her hand wiped against her eyes, and the other joined it as the tears fell, unable to be held back anymore.

“I’ll help you figure it out.” He lifted her chin with his hand, wiping away a streak of hot tears with his thumb. “You’re afraid of what you don’t understand, of what you  _ think  _ that Palpatine has control over but this is all you. You’ll learn to control that urge, and you’ll realize that the dark side is needed just as much as the light is to bring balance. The dark side isn’t a frightening thing. Not when it isn’t alone.”

Rey trembled, the pounding in her chest so ferocious it  _ hurt.  _ She reached for his hand, covering his fingers with her own. Her walls were being knocked down, their connection resounding so strongly, whipping against each other with new and unbridled emotions as a crackling electricity. She wanted to feel better, wanted  _ him  _ to feel unconcerned. Let him know everything she’d been struggling to come to terms with the last few days--perhaps even longer than that. 

Help him find their place in a world that didn’t want to make room for them. 

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “And what if I can’t?”

“You saved me.” Ben said simply. “I told you, I’ll save you back.” And it was said with such an honest sincerity, as if he had come to terms with that already, as if whether or not she became the monster she was meant to be, he would be there through every hard decision she would make; good or bad.

After that, he was quiet and contemplative and a part of her thought that would be the end of it.

Tentative fingers reached out and brushed over her knuckles, lacing long deft fingers through her own with his arm stretched as far as it could go. Still space, but with an intimate touch she only hoped he wouldn’t yank back from. She wanted him to answer the unspoken question for her, let her know that the one thing on her list was the only one that wasn’t feasible. The one she kept closed off close to her heart was the one that did.

He drew their hands up and pressed together despite their connection crackling against each other, suggesting separation by this newfound surge of power.

She glanced down at their woven fingers with a hard-pressed stare that distracted her from how much closer he’d crept , able to bend his arm now with the closed distance. He had her against the wall but did his best to not loom with his overbearing height, kept his gaze soft despite his frustration. Shaking hands stilled. 

“I will help you. There is too much light in you. You’re not going to turn.”

And that was a promise. One that she suddenly believed with every single part of her. 

His eyes released _ raw _ emotion from their deep depths.. There was a space between his lips as they trembled with hesitation, uttering another promise that halted all of her doubts, her  _ fears  _ and  _ insecurities.  _ His skin was cold but also heated, his breath warm on her skin.

“I’ll always be here.”

He leaned forward, her heart slamming in her chest at their close proximity. The quiet seemed to capture the moment in all of its glory. It was enough to convince her that he was right and they would  _ both _ be fine. His forehead came to rest on her own, breathing slow and steady in an attempt to control urges that touched them both. 

Love was an emotion she’d felt only platonically. One that she didn’t believe that she possessed the time to find. A dangerous adventure with no sanctuary, and no promise of safety. A harmful thing that she didn’t have time for and more priorities that took precedence first.

An ideal that shouldn’t have been allowed to be in her company if it would only make her question whether or not she was dreaming. 

Too many times recently had she been sleepwalking through dark and twisted possibilities, waiting for her light to guide her. 

Ben had hovered over her looking as if he had just survived a war, as if they had never gotten a break between Exogol and he hadn’t taken a dip in the Bafta tank. He smiled in a way that she’d witnessed from him genuinely only once, one so natural and ordinary as if his smiles had never been hidden underneath a mask or behind the shadow of Kylo Ren. Rey  _ knew _ him, at least as well as she could have in the limited time that they had managed to talk, but there would always be a mystery to him that she struggled to get just right--a guessing game that even after several years fighting against him, she couldn’t quite piece together. A piece of him hovering in between two different identities.

The quiet seemed to capture the moment, the both of them staring one another down, 

She couldn’t escape, and she breathed him in, willing him to be just  _ that _ , getting so much closer to ward off what was trying to shroud her life and pull her in with it. Two forces playing tug of war, one effectively winning more over the other.

Sucking in a breath, trapped between him and his hand now braced against the doorway that led into the falcon above her. Her body shuddered as the arch of her spine met it, her heart thrumming with energetic chaos sending signals through their thread. It hit her just as forcefully.

He was the one winning.


	22. Break The Mold (Finn)

Someone paused on Finn’s left, an obscured figure framed by a growing darkness with blurred edges. A kneeling figure snapped his attention upward, a loud snapping right in front of his eyes, a voice speaking with an urgent concern that housed some form of finality--as if he would be in more trouble if he didn’t answer as opposed to simply _dying._

A hand wrapped around his arm; tight and none too gentle.

Reality blurred in and out like a passing memory. Lights blared above him and he squinted, slowly coming to the realization that while the ceiling passed by above his head, he wasn’t moving. His limbs remained limp and useless, fighting him at every step against what he commanded and the hands that gripped his shirt collar dragged him along despite the weak tugging that he used to ward against it. 

Someone was talking to him--the same voice he thought that he heard before anyway, a low rumbling incomprehensive but most certainly throwing a slew of curses his way, and a few derisive insults that he was almost glad that he wasn’t conscious enough to hear because he would definitely be offended if he could somehow take part in this one sided conversation.

A sharp throb pounded against the side of his skull and he winced but couldn’t find the motor control to touch his face, nothing but a small jerk here and there. His eyes closed again, the voice growing farther away if that were possible, but all Finn could manage was a low mumbling insult of his own.

He didn’t quite know what slipped from his lips, but the abrupt tap against the back of his head told him that he had at least been successful at his last attempt at being a smartass before he blacked out again.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again, a medical bay blurred into focus, furnished with its familiar dividers and the beds that _still_ made his back ache despite the many times he had found himself in one. He grasped a hand underneath of him, if only to be sure that the discomfort did not originate from some strange form of punishment for his traitorism even in death, but he felt the covers, grasped it in the palm of his hand and breathed out.

It was real.

“Finn?” Rose’s breathless laugh resounded in his ear. She perched on the side of his bed, maneuvering closer while he managed to get a firm grasp of his surroundings. Her brows pinched together in concern, but she exhibited a mild look of relief nonetheless. “Finn, how--how are you feeling?”

When he managed to sit up, he winced. A sharp pain shot through his stomach and up through his chest, and he took one wheezing breath, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Rose held out a hand to steady him, but he brushed her off with a dismissive hand gesture of his own, sniffing. 

“I could be better honestly.” Finn grimaced, stealing a glance around the room just to find it empty. Eerily so. The blank white walls added to the array of _nothing_ , and the smell of antiseptics and cleaner assaulted his nose and briefly distracted him from the familiar metallic scent and taste of blood that he remembered from Hux’s ship. “Where are we? What happened? I was on Hux’s ship and then I--”

“While the two of you were keeping the Order occupied, I directed everyone off of Crait to the next rendezvous point. Poe sent out an SOS and the next thing I knew, he was dragging you behind him half-dead.” Rose stole a glance down to her lap where she fumbled with her fingers. “I’m glad I decided to stay behind and wait,” She shrugged. “Just in case.”

“Where is Poe?”

“Piloting the ship, but he had me stay in here in case you woke up and freaked out. Honestly, we weren’t holding out much hope just in case you didn't...” She frowned, squeezing her eyes shut. “It didn’t look good.”

“Hey,” Finn interrupted, holding a hand out, and she took it without hesitation. His thumb ran over the back of her knuckles, traced the ridges and he gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “I’m fine. It could’ve gone worse, a lot worse.” 

Rose wrenched her hand free, delivering one swift punch to his shoulder. He rubbed the accused area, but she was already maneuvering around the bed, coming to stand on the other side, hands clenched into tight fists. “ _You_ didn’t see the condition you originally arrived here in. It couldn’t have gone much worse actually. You almost died, _again._ ” 

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, thanks to Poe.” She quipped. “Honestly, you’re lucky someone is always there to save you when you decide to play sacrifice. What is going to happen when someone _isn’t_?” 

“I will be _sacrificed_?” 

Rose’s brows pinched into a scowl.

Finn threw up his hands in defeat. “Right, sorry. Not a good time.”

She scoffed, ran a hand down her face, breathed in and for a moment he expected her to lash out again. She didn’t. “They searched our base. Everyone left out the back entrance while they were busy, and when the chaos happened, I prepped the next ship and waited for you guys. They haven’t caught up yet, but I imagine they put Ben and Rey on a higher priority than us right now.” She mused. “That doesn’t mean that we’re off their radar, and I wouldn’t bet for a high bounty on any resistance members too.”

Finn pressed his lips together with a slow nod, taking in everything that she said in order to process. It was slowly coming back to him now; the interrogation, the fight, shoving Poe out of the room--

He scowled. “Is Poe mad?”

“He thinks that you’re an idiot.” Rose clarified. “For once I think that I can agree with him.”

“So nothing new then.” He blew a puff of air through his nose. 

She couldn’t find the humor in what he said, leveling him with a hardened stare, _accusing._ “What do you think that you could have accomplished back there?” Her tone was serious, holding none of the light-hearted jovialness that was an endearing part of her personality, instead attempting to be intimidating--another thing that he couldn’t take seriously.

Looking at her stern expression only made him want to laugh more at behavior she tried so hard to exhibit, but it was more so for her worry over _him_ and as such he made no remark--lest he want to be punched again anyway. In his condition, he doubted he’d be able to take it and that was a mockery that he would prefer to avoid if possible.

“I was thinking that since I was the one with force powers, that meant that I could do more than Poe could have.” Finn explained lamely. “Or if anything, I could give Poe a chance to escape the ship, maybe even evacuate everyone else before they were imprisoned.” He looked up. “Or worse.”

“A lot of good your force powers are doing, aren’t they?” She scoffed out a laugh. 

“Yeah,” Frinn grumbled sarcastically. “Thanks--Thanks for that. I didn’t exactly have anyone like Rey or Kylo to exactly teach me.”

“I’m kidding. But I’m sure if you had asked Rey or _Ben_ nicely, they would have.”

“I didn’t exactly get the chance before they took off.”

“Things got a little crazy after you left.”

“So I’ve heard.”

A silence passed between them after that, somewhat awkward as the reality settled in, rather the truth. Silently, he wondered what would have happened if he had stayed rather than leaving to find the force sensitives. If he could have convinced Rey to stay even if Ben was sent to exile.

He knew the answer without thinking too hard.

“Anyway,” Rose ran a hand against the nape of her neck. “Poe wanted to talk to you as soon as you woke up so I’ll go and trade him places--” She turned, but Finn reached out and curled his fingers around her wrist, stopping her in place. 

“Thank you, Rose.” Finn said quietly. 

She smirked. “Don’t thank me. I’m only playing your babysitter. Poe was the one that saved your life.”

“I don’t mean just for that.”

“Well, don’t count on our help next time you decide to do something stupid, okay?” With great care, she tugged out of his grip and a cold space was left between them. “I’ll let Poe know you’re awake.”

And then she was gone, and Finn was left alone to think, to process. While it was supposed to be inviting to finally get the chance to breathe, he couldn’t _stop_ thinking. About the moment on the New Order’s ship, Hux’s sudden--but not surprising--betrayal and his best friend who he had escaped his first life with and had also immediately crashed a ship into the Jakku desert and been on a wild adventure beside ever since. 

His head swiveled around the medical bay to the familiar pilot’s jacket that he’d been given--rather taken. It had long shown its signs of wear, having been stitched one too many times from the amount of times that his life had been threatened. 

A few more times wouldn’t make much of a difference. 

What if he had died in an instant. Was just _gone_? Angry shouting, frantic beating on a reinforced door, Poe shoving into the room, blasters exploding in a flurry of light and sound, back rolling along the wall, the warmth that spread through his body and the cold that had immediately followed. 

It all assaulted his head at once--urging a hand to wrap over his abdomen, and for the first time, he had considered himself a means to an end. Another friend that had given their lives to protect the mass as a whole where the fragile leaders of the First Order--New Order, whatever, had always failed. 

Finn against all odds had been the one to save his friends--or provide enough of a distraction at least that would lead to their safety. Not Rey, not even Kylo Ren, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Han Solo, but Finn. 

Just Finn. 

Yet he was still here and everyone was fine. Sure, everywhere hurt like hell and his clothes were ruined but it meant something. Finn had found his purpose, one that more importantly didn’t limit itself just inside the resistance.

He straightened stiffly as Poe appeared in the doorway, raising his head to meet him and finding the face of his friend--tired and stressed, but relieved nonetheless.

“You look like shit. In a good way.” Poe smiled faintly.

He made no initiative to actually walk in, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe, hands shoved in his pockets. He gave Finn a quick sweep, chewing at his lower lip, turning his distracted gaze elsewhere as if he couldn’t stomach looking at him for that long. 

Finn didn’t know if that was because he looked as bad as he thought or because Poe was contemplating making him look _worse._

“I knew you wouldn’t do it.” Finn began.

“Hm, do what?” Poe walked the rest of the way into the room, squeezed between the dividers to stand at the foot of his bed. His hands curled around the rails of it in a white-knuckled grip. “Kick your ass? I’m still thinking about it actually.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Sell out Kylo and Rey. You had their ship pinged when they left Crait, but you didn’t tell him where their radar was headed.”

“It’s more my business than theirs. I want to find them before Hux does.”

“I still appreciate that you didn’t say anything.”

Poe shrugged. “Well, they should be the one thanking me, not you. This only happened because Hux was looking for them.”

“Honestly, I just thought you’d leap at the chance to surrender Kylo Ren to the Order, or the courts if they aren’t a part of them too.”

Poe’s features creased into a scowl, dropping his head between his shoulders. A puff of air blew out between his lips. “I hate him. I hate what he did.” He raised his head, gaze somewhat downcast still. “And if he wasn’t Leia’s son, I probably would have finished it.” With a sigh, his fingers snaked back through his hair. “Not to mention he’s kept Rey alive. If everything she said about Exogol was true.”

Finn cocked his head, lowering his voice. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“Leia, Han, Rey. They all gave up everything for the bastard. Their lives, just so that he can somehow atone for everything that he did. I guess--I don’t want that to go to waste if he gets executed.” He threw his arms out. “Maybe Rey is on to something and I’m choosing to trust her, and if I sell out Kylo Ren, I may as well be damning her too.”

A smile pulled at Finn’s lips, and he nodded. Subtle, but for once in the last few days he could say that he at least agreed with something his co-general said. “If you could turn that into an apology, I think she would accept it.”

“I’ve been giving you time to practice yours.” Poe went on. “For shoving me out of that room, trying to play the sacrifice card _again_.”

“I killed a lot of them.” Finn admitted, ducking his head. “Stormtroopers. I know that they’re on the opposite side, but I was once too.”

“They were trying to kill you.” He reminded him. “What else were you supposed to do? Take it?” 

“I knew a lot of them; trained with a lot of them.” He shrugged lamely. “I thought that I could convince them not to shoot if they knew who I was.”

“A previous First Order soldier with a lot of compassion for that same order isn’t a good thing.” Poe closed the remaining distance between them and seated himself on the bed, one hand coming to rest on Finn’s shoulder. “It’ll get you into trouble.”

Finn scoffed a soft laugh. “It already has.”

“But I get it.” Poe went on. “Stormtroopers were thought of as expendable. You didn’t want to kill any more than the Order already was.”

“Any Stormtrooper who couldn’t prove themselves a good enough soldier deserved to die anyway according to the Order.” Finn agreed. “If I didn’t kill them, they were probably going to be executed. At least now, I can say that I made that choice.”

“If there was one thing I learned in my time as a spice runner, it’s that you can’t dwell on changing the past. We work with what we have for the future, and at least we can say that we’re trying.”

“I know,” He fumbled with his fingers, exhaling through his nose. “It’s just hard to not think about different paths that I could have taken. Where I would’ve ended up because of that. Where the other troopers would have ended up if I had decided to somehow help them instead of run.”

Poe bobbed his head and hummed thoughtfully. “We would’ve met a long time ago, probably sitting in this same ship. Me, you, Rey, Rose and BB-8 bringing that Jedi map to Leia. There would have been a different starting point maybe--you could’ve been in the resistance from the start and saved my ass again, but I like to think that we would all still be together, even if we took different paths.”

“If we’d met Rey together, you could have saved me from her beatdown.” Finn chuckled. “She almost knocked my head off because she thought I stole your jacket.”

“I’ve walked away from plenty of crashes.” Poe exclaimed proudly. “It’ll take a lot more than that.” 

“You’re labeled the best pilot in the resistance and you’ve walked away from _plenty_ of crashes?” Finn mocked, cocking an eyebrow. “You know, I don’t think that Rey has ever crashed a ship that she’s piloted. You might want to think about relinquishing your title.” He smirked.

“There were extenuating circumstances every time.” Poe insisted. “And we would have died had it not been for those same skills _actually_.” He pointed an accusing finger in Finn’s direction. There was no aggression behind it, only a genine amusement as his words fumbled out over a laugh. “Not to mention, you would not have met Rey in the first place if not for me.” 

He seemed proud of that fact, as if for some reason Finn should actually _thank_ him for crashing them in the middle of the Jakku desert.

“I’ll let that be your speech if we decide to hand out awards.”

“Alright Loverboy. Whatever you say.” Poe shoved at his shoulder, and despite the sharp pain that throbbed there, the two boys shared in a laugh, reminiscing in old times and future possibilities, playful banter and simple insults. 

Finn had run from his previous life like a coward, a _traitor._ He’d had enough hardship and grief to last a lifetime, had gained and lost so much at the touch of his hand, had held doubt and hope in his palm; held it so gently and also crushed it when it suited him. He’d survived and he’d persevered as a man stuck between two different worlds.

And he thrived as a member of the resistance. He’d _saved_ people--friends. Helped win a war, helped those that wouldn’t see reason _see_ it, attempted to be a sacrifice. Attempted to let that end his legacy and in the end be remembered as a hero that while at first had a rough start, had chosen the right path in the end for the greater good.

It had failed twice.

But he was alive, and that definitely counted for something.

His old life was far behind him but his role in the resistance--as a co-leader--had just begun.

And he wasn’t done yet.


	23. I've Felt It Too (Rey)

When they separated, she thought that she heard the thread open up only to sigh in disappointment. Rey agreed with it, but this was preferable to him shying away, pretending that their connection was some grand and important thing that benefited only the fate of someone else.

It wasn’t very long ago that Kylo Ren was traversing the galaxy set on ending her life while she tried to untangle the meaning of their connection. Now, she was stumbling along toward an uncertain future and following this new dynamic so blindly. The adrenaline enveloped her leaving behind a rush that never quite went away even when she laid down to rest.

Stress, she told herself.

Nightmares. Everything with the resistance, with Ben recently re-realizing himself. It left her vulnerable, wishing for things that didn’t quite make sense given the moment, and it also wasn't the time. She felt his feelings resounding so strongly against her, even if he didn’t quite realize it himself, but there was some form of restraint, something holding him back.

It could’ve been her, or what he was afraid she would become--he had seen her dreams; an extended version that she could only  _ imagine  _ what horrors had awaited him there at her hand--or an unsureness on his end at pursuing something that felt so far out of their reach.

There was nothing in the way.

They shared a connection, a future.

And there were plans for the both of them, an unforeseeable possibility that Leia warned her about. Would their Dyad be what ultimately dragged them down?

Was it something that Ben was unwilling to risk?

Would ditching their identities completely still not be enough?

Her heart lurched in her chest, her eyes crinkling with her falling expression. 

They shared a kiss on Exogol--one she remembered quite fondly--but was it only a relief at being alive; mere gratitude and thanks? What were they destined to be in the end? How would they lead themselves to a much more peaceful conclusion?

Would she ever know what the words  _ be with me  _ meant?

“We need to move on,” Rey spoke gently, ducking underneath his arm. “It’s not foolish to think that we may have been followed back. I don’t know where we could dock next but--”

“Hold on.”

“But you’ve explored more than I have. Surely you know another place that we could restock supplies, trade the ship--” She didn’t stop to catch his expression when she passed, but he caught her arm, turned her around to face him before his thumb was wiping at a spot above her eye. It squeezed shut at the gentle prodding.

“You’re bleeding.” 

“Bleeding?” She echoed, fingers fumbling against her face. Her index finger and thumb rubbed together, and as he said, scarlet coated the tips. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t get the chance to ask when we left.”

“I’m okay. It’s just a cut.”

“Does anywhere else hurt?”

“Besides everywhere?” She chuckled softly, a soft smile touching her lips as she looked up. Heat emanated from him, feeling the faint rasp of his callouses against her skin. Kylo Ren seemed to strip away more and more with his habiliment, and she saw a neglected boy working toward letting go of the bitter resentment he had held onto for so long--the lonely, troubled spirit that was Ben Solo.

He was becoming so much more. Someone that she  _ knew  _ his family would be proud of if they could see him now. Maybe they could. Even if he was still clinging to old scars, he knew that it was pointless to attempt to erase the past rather than reconcile with it. Old enemies were gone, and they couldn’t hurt them anymore, not here. 

Maybe she could simply reconcile with her lineage, remind herself that even if it was a part of her, she had chosen a different path, and now that it was  _ gone _ , every fear was just that. Fear. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be made a reality unless she  _ wanted  _ it to be.

And he was quiet, looking at her as though he were dazed. She gently prompted, “Ben?”

He smiled, a genuine one that pulled at both corners of his mouth before he backed off, a space between them that left her shivering despite the Tattooine heat. “Come on. We should look you over just in case.”

Without protest, she followed him down the hallway where the medical bay waited, rather the small examination room that passed for one. Her fingers continuously fumbled at the wound above her eye; having pointed it out it stung, but it was a small pain in comparison to the aching in the rest of her muscles. 

Rey sat down on one of the beds where he directed her, running her clammy hands down the length of her thighs as she breathed. She was only just coming down from the adrenaline, and her earlier hallucination still had her chest heaving

Ben rifled through the cabinets, grabbing a small kit before returning to her side. He cupped her chin in the palm of his hand, dabbing at the wound above her eye. She winced, tugging back slightly. His grip remained firm. 

They were both quiet, unspoken moments passing between them while he focused on the spot above her eye. His expression was intent, and for a moment she marveled in it. Seeing that concentration outside of something besides battle left her with a feeling she couldn’t quite explain. 

“You kept your hair down.” Ben observed, his focus unwavering. “I thought with Tattooine’s climate, you might put it up.”

Rey attempted to turn her head, his neutral expression obscuring any of his thoughts to her. She scoffed. “I didn’t keep it down for  _ you _ .” She insisted.

“I never said that you did.” He shrugged with a light smirk that brightened his usually stoic features--at least the stoicness that she was used to. Seeing him smile, hold expressions was a new experience that while most certainly welcome, still managed to throw her off balance.  _ More  _ off balance.

She tugged back from his grip, and his hand dropped to his side, useless. “And what of your hair?”

“My hair?” He echoed, arching a brow. 

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes darting between him and the floor. “It needs a trim. With a bit more time, it will be even longer than mine, I think.”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“ _ What _ ?” Rey bristled, head snapping up. “No. Of course not. I am merely  _ implying _ \--”

“Back in the cockpit you were thinking about something.” Ben went on--much to her frustration, closing the distance between them again, spraying a medicinal salve against her skin and pressing on an adhesive despite her protests. It stung momentarily, but a comforting burn soon took its place. “What was it?”

The brief memory of her unspoken thoughts came crashing back to her, and she couldn’t laugh despite the awkwardness of it, even if she stared at him, lips slightly parted and an incredulous expression that she was sure gave it away already. 

“You’re staring.” He mumbled.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything.” She insisted.

“Nothing?”

“I was thinking about what we should do since we couldn’t trade the ship here.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know of many places that have similar trading systems. Not unless you wanted to try Jakku, of which I am not leaping at the chance to go back to.”

Ben cocked his head, and she avoided his eyes as they swept over some random part of the room instead, over medicinal bottles and supplies, over freshly washed sheets and polished surfaces. Whatever she could find as a distraction that would stop the heat from flooding her face and giving her away.

“That’s not what you were thinking about.” He dipped his chin, motioning vaguely toward her abdomen. “Do you mind if I look?”

“Sure.” She mumbled.

Her hand wrapped around the fabric of her shirt and lifted it up to grant him better access. A small shiver ran up her spine as his calloused hands brushed across her bare midriff. It wasn’t a bruise yet, only the beginnings of one large ugly discoloration from having been sent careening into too many tables and hitting the ground in some lame attempt to hide her Jedi nature. 

Her nerves flared, breath hitching as he sprayed more medical salve over the mark. Ben studied it, his breath hot against her skin, his head bent at an angle to see it better. The hair on her arms rose straight up, her entire body tensing with it. 

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“N-No, it just stings.” She lied, her tone a slightly higher pitch than normal. Her teeth gnawed at her lower lip. 

“You’re tense.”

“No, I’m not.”

Ben exhaled softly, gingerly pulling the fabric of her shirt down for her. “Thankfully, you got out a lot better than you could have.”

“Thanks to you.”

“You gave me my life.” He reminded her. “I shouldn’t have suggested we split up. It’s a mistake I’m not going to repeat in the future.” He sounded so sure, as if promising himself such a thing.

Her heart sank into one pounding mess at the bottom of her stomach. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He repeated, taking a step back so that he could see her more clearly. It only made her want to squirm more. “For what?”

“I was stressed.” Rey snaked her head back to look up at him. “The nightmares, everything with the resistance. It was making me afraid of a possibility and I took that out on you. I made it seem like you hadn’t ever felt similarly and I know that you have.” She whispered, her thoughts unveiling themselves before she could stop them. At least, a portion of her thoughts. Never could she admit other such  _ private  _ things. “I know that you have been through more than enough, and I just--I shouldn’t have said that and I’m sorry.”

Ben mulled over her words, watching her with a certain intent. 

“You wanted to kiss me.” He stated.

“Huh?” She asked dumbly. 

“In the cockpit.” He leaned back, folded his arms across his chest in smug satisfaction. “That’s what you were thinking about.”

She snorted in disbelief. “No, I wasn’t.” And she smiled, attempting to give off that she was rather confident in that fact, but he didn’t buy it, dipping his chin and scrutinizing her more closely. It wavered that confidence, just enough for her to look away from him.

“I could sense it through our connection.”

_ Kriffing Dyad… _

“And you’re delusional.”

“You’re thinking about it right now. I can feel it.”

“I’m feeling rather embarrassed right now, actually.” She retorted, standing and running her still clammy hands down her clothes in an attempt to calm their trembling. So what if she was  _ still  _ thinking about it? “And pressured by all of these accusations when we should be moving on.” 

She wanted to say more, but words never came. She gulped, feeling heat brush across her face. Her chest rose and fell and she slunk around him, her hand pausing on the edge of the doorframe when he acknowledged her again, this time with a tone more deathly serious, insistent that she listen.

She did.

“You know, they train Jedi from a young age. I was sent to my uncle even though I didn’t feel like I was ready, like I ever  _ would  _ be ready. Snoke was in my ear for as long as I could remember, and the rejection from my parents, Luke’s distance, it was really difficult to deal with. For a child.” He stood there, several feet  _ away _ from her, his hands folded inside his pockets.

“I can only imagine what you went through, Ben.” She whispered, resisting the urge to go to him, to prove to him that he was right by kissing him then, succumbing to her fantasies. She could only be a comforting presence for so long before it would no longer be enough. 

And she hoped that she still was, for what it was worth.

“When I was about ten, and I was training, there was a presence in the force. It was bright and pure, calm and innocent.” He scoffed a smile. “I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I spent several years trying to reach through the force to find it. Eventually, I forgot. But when I left the Jedi temple and pursued my life as Kylo Ren, I started to remember. Then I found you and I realized our connection.”

Rey nodded slowly, standing there, her fingers gripping the frame tighter. What was she supposed to say? She hadn’t felt  _ anything  _ since she ran into him in the forest that first time. After all, he was much more proficient in the force than she was so perhaps that was why it wasn’t all that much of a surprise.

Her heart picked up its pace, threatening to leap from her chest.

He didn’t wait for her to answer at least. “I guess--what I’m saying is--is that our connection means something. To me.”

And then her heart soared. She dipped her chin, and her brows pinched together. “I almost gave up on Exogol. Leia asked me not to, for you. And a part of me wanted to be here, to help you. I still do.”

“I’m glad that you didn’t. I prefer it this way I think. Running as a fugitive with no clear destination. Definitely doesn’t leave much time to think.” He chuckled softly.

There was a moment of nothing, just a gentle exchange of understanding. A mutual happiness that tugged into the barest hint of a smile between them.

A puff of air blew through his nose despite it. “Snoke was watching me. Always. In the beginning before I even realized what was happening. Manipulating me and pulling me to the dark side.” A tick worked itself in his jaw. “And I had everything. I had a family--”

“They abandoned you.”

“I had friends, a future. Even still that wasn’t enough.” He finished lamely, his lips pressed together. “But  _ you _ \--you lost everything. You grew up on a wasteland with no idea who you were, with no clear future or a clear plan of tomorrow and yet you still clung to the light.”  He gave her a widened grin. “You’re too strong to ever fall to that temptation. You’ve had every reason and yet you were stronger--stronger than I ever was or could hope to be.”

“But you turned back.”

“With enough sacrifices to get there, and even still I can feel it. It holds a part of me, as it always will, but at least with you, I have a reason not to.”

She mulled it over, her eyes darting down before looking up into his gentle expression once again. “I thought about what would happen if I took your hand in the throne room. I entertained that possibility, but I wanted you--to  _ be  _ with you as Ben.”

And she smiled one final time, stepping the remaining distance through the doorway that would lead them back to the cockpit. “I just want you to know that our connection means something to me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally, this was not supposed to be a chapter. I had the fic completely mapped out, and I was sorting through events and originally this was going to lead into the next area for Ben and Rey, but then I decided to add a little side thing just to keep the cuteness going and somehow this chapter was born. 
> 
> (And I have been working on four other fics from four different fandoms and those are also spiraling out of my control as my writer brain takes flight and thrives. I may never get this much amount of motivation again.)
> 
> Now I have to re-edit my outline, but honestly from all of the small ideas that I have, those ideas expand into three or four chapters and suddenly the whole thing has spiraled out of my control. It does however be what it be. 
> 
> Also! Sorry for the little teaser with the kiss you guys! D: It leads into some events later, so I had to do it! You all are still adored, I promise! <3 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed, and please prepare for the actual next point in the story arc in a few more chapters. Every comment has, as always, had me smiling from ear to ear and I hope that those that are still following still genuinely enjoy it! :D I am still enjoying writing it! :) 
> 
> I hope that everyone is doing well! <3 All of you stay safe during these crazy times please and thank you!


	24. Help Me Try (Ben)

It left him with a feeling of suffocation.

To hold so much pain inside himself; to grasp at that anger and uncertainty and use it as a crutch to get him through all of the _bad_ that ran rampant inside of his head. Things that made him _see_ , made him _think_ , and only because of his own weakness could he not get it to calm. 

While it had changed him into something that he was never _meant_ to be, and had transformed him into a person that he didn’t recognize, even in the present he still couldn’t let that part of himself go. 

Instead, he held it tight against his chest. Channeling into that part was sometimes necessary, and if he wanted to hold onto the smallest sliver of light that Rey and his parents had given to him, he had to remind himself of what he could never afford to be again. He grasped tightly to every lesson, every decision, every _failure_ and hoped. 

He thought about it all the time.

_Let the past die. Kill it if you have to._

It was the only way to become who he was meant to be, to crush his memories of rejection and hurt and usher it toward something else. Tell himself that everything that he’d found, he hadn’t done so alone and if he were to lose that--lose _her_ \--he would surely lose all of the progress he’d made toward who he tried so hard to be. A fleeting memory tumbling back into the dark and dragging him down into what it believed was some inevitable destiny. 

_Alas, you’re no Vader. Just a child in a mask._

So he’d destroyed that mask, and while he believed that Snoke’s jabs had been intended to push him further to the dark side, it ushered his own emotional turmoil and split him more. Ben was a failure to the light and dark and so sitting precariously in between the two gave him _something_ if also nothing at all. 

And he’d failed the resistance, the Jedi Order, and the politics of it all. But he saw the truth in it--the _imbalance--_ and that was enough for him to have confidence that not picking a side was the right decision. Ben Solo didn’t belong, but that was at least _his_ choice. 

He could at least say there was a sense of calm that hadn’t _quite_ been there before. Only because for the last few days, he hadn’t the chance to do anything but worry. Strangely, he wasn’t sure what to do now that he _wasn’t_. 

It was strangely rejuvenating. 

And standing on the loading dock watching Rey twirl around as if she had never seen rainfall left him with an equally warm feeling in the very center of his chest, a prickling sensation that made his chest heave when he breathed. 

They had landed on a much smaller, secluded planet toward the inner rim. A wide river stretched out in the distance, outlined by grassy plains and waterfalls lining the horizon.

The Falcon was parked in the middle of a field. Ben looked up, holding out his hand as rain splashed against his bare palm. Strangely, he felt as if he was opening up a part of himself to the world removing his gloves to further himself from Kylo Ren. 

He tried not to shy away from it. 

Rey practically scampered through the fields, throwing herself into the brush and extending her hands out to the sky as if inviting an even heavier downpour. There was something oddly childlike about it, and in a way endearing. He was unable to hide the inevitable smile that creeped up his lips before taking the remaining distance down the ramp. “All of your traveling with the resistance and you’re still not used to it?”

She whipped around, cheeks holding a soft flush but not out of any show of embarrassment. Instead, she grinned--one strangely innocent--before she turned her gaze up again, closing her eyes against the elements. “We’ve been on dry planets the last few weeks. It’s refreshing not sweating through your clothes all the time.”

Ben nodded in a mutual understanding, jerking his head toward an obscured path ahead. What had once likely been a bustling community had been resorted to nothing but grass and overgrown weeds. He wondered if they had retreated further back onto the planet to better hide, or if it had been too late for them to even try. “I want to show you something.”

Rey cocked her head. “Show me what? You’ve been here before?”

“Not personally. I remember looking at the map layout when I was with the First Order. We sent Troopers down here once looking for the Resistance.”

Her head swiveled around. “What’s the planet called?”

Ben grimaced. “I don’t know. They were just coordinates I crossed off a list.” 

She moved on with no comment, but the subtle disappointment that flitted across her features was impossible to miss. Maybe because that silent disappointment came from her--and for a long time since turning to the dark side, her opinion had been one of the only few that had mattered.

There was something oddly protective about the way she chose not to remark. Something delicate and rude as if aware of the fragility he carried around with him about his past and tried to pretend like every crime he committed was done by someone else entirely.

While they walked side by side, he spared a glance over to Rey’s content expression, walking along with a slight skip in her step as if the last couple days hadn’t happened--rather she only remembered the good things, excluding the fact that she was nearly killed in a tavern and expelled from the Resistance by the popular demand of her friends. 

She didn’t talk about Palpatine, or the terrors in her dreams. That overbearing light that he had such trouble looking into before was blinding again, showing not even an inkling of darkness that he’d caught the wariest glimpse of before. It settled something in him, an anxiety that he hadn’t realized he’d felt until he simply _didn’t_ feel it anymore. 

“What is it?”

His attention snapped back. “Hm?”

“You’re thinking.” She pointed out. “About something, but I can’t see it.”

He cleared his throat. “Just that I have a surprise to show you.”

“I thought that you said you’d never been here before?”

“I saw it on the holomap.”

“What is the surprise?” Her brows furrowed.

“That defeats the whole purpose of what a surprise is.” He pointed out.

Rey made a small sound of frustration in the back of her throat, but didn’t press. The curiosity was picking at her however, her facial expressions shifting with every possibility that came to mind, only to turn her head and look at him, cocking her head. “Is it a new saber?”

“No.”

“Is it a new ship?”

“That would be pretty difficult without getting rid of the Falcon. And neither would be visible from a map.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I don’t like surprises. That usually means I’m about to be in trouble.”

“You’ll like this one.” The high grass dwindled as a hill sloped upward ahead of them with an array of wildflowers. Blue, purple and green all swaying underneath a gentle breeze. “Just over that hill.” He pointed.

The dark clouds overhead were just beginning to disperse as they ascended, beams of light splitting through and casting its rays across the river--a wide winding thing snaking through the planet. There was only one bridge that connected the two stretches of land on either side, and while the mountains loomed in the distance, the sunlight offered a glistening effect over it all.

Rey gaped beside him, crouching down to take it all in. The trees that gave way to more grassland and the hill that they had climbed gave them the clearest viewpoint of it all. Being used to nothing but hot, sweltering heat, rock and sand, she looked as if she had never seen so much green in the entire world. 

He had, only for it to be turned to flames and ash by the end of his excursions. For once, it felt good to just _look,_ for there to be no other purpose than to simply enjoy it without thinking of routes for convenience or possible hiding holes and how much could be dissected from it for personal gain. How much could be destroyed and whether that would be an inconvenience for him later should he need it.

“It’s beautiful out here.” Rey remarked, casting her gaze up to the sun splitting through the clouds as the rain finally began to ease. 

“It is.”

“I like this surprise.”

“I knew you would.”

Without missing a beat, she carefully maneuvered down the other side toward the river. He trailed after, his boots more practiced in the rough terrain than Rey who clumsily slid down and struggled to catch her footing. It didn’t act quite the same as sand, and no doubt it was steeper than the terrain on Luke’s island, but she didn’t complain.

Instead, when she reached the bottom, she snatched a canteen from her belt and snaked it through the water, taking a few quick gulps and going down for another drink, splashing her face before finally settling down onto the grass, knees bent at an angle, her arms draped over top. 

Ben stood beside her, retrieving a stone from the bank, rolling it over in his palm before chucking it into the running water. It didn’t skip, but with the current he wasn’t necessarily expecting it to. 

Long grassy vines leaned over the river, and a few birds drifted over the water--clear and fluid--chirping. “This area has been mostly left alone by the First Order. Nature ran its course over the last excursion and took back the area from when the order was last here.” 

Rey undid her saber from her belt and set it down in the grass along with her spear. “It would be a good place to settle. People probably did settle here before,” Her gaze flicked to him before she quickly added. “But the river probably gets too high when it rains and they likely moved their settlement to higher ground.”

Nice save. 

His back had been turned to her initially, looking out over the surrounding area in all of its depths, anticipating what may have been waiting for them were they to trek out there. It wasn’t likely anyone was looking for them now, most certainly not him, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping down his spine that warned him against maintaining a semblance of calm.

“The water looks inviting.” She mused gently. “Do you know how to swim?” 

“Just enough not to drown.”

He turned to acknowledge her words with a confused collection of his own, and he froze. Blood rushed to his face, and he suddenly stood rigid. 

She was already removing her sandals and tossing them to the side, wriggling out of her tunic and her pants and leaving herself in just her bindings and underwear. 

“Good enough.” A tentative step onto the first rock, holding out her arms to keep from slipping, and then she was off and thigh-deep in the water, letting out a little shriek as her legs immersed fully. The current was already trying to pull her along, and when she took a few steps forward she began to paddle trying to stay in one spot. 

But the image in his head was proving more difficult to ignore, willing it from his mind but it refused. The stark redness of his face only heightened and he hoped that she couldn’t see it. He sucked in a sharp breath, turning slightly again and perched his hands on his hips.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?” His voice was at a slightly higher pitch as his chest heaved. He cleared his throat. 

“Come on.”

With a defeated sigh--and being careful not to look too far--he crouched down next to the bank, Rey splashing somewhere just outside of his peripherals next to him as he willed himself to ignore it. To think about something else. _Anything_ else. He reached a hand out and touched the water, felt the coolness beneath his hand, flexed his fingers in it. 

It did feel good. 

He kicked off his boots and rolled up his pants to dip his feet in it, discarded his shirt to the bank beside him--nothing she hadn’t seen before considering she’d accidentally seen _everything_. He leaned over to press his face into his hands, rub up and down, hands snaking back into his hair and pressing against the nape of his neck.

“I’ll tell you next time I want to go for a swim so you can avert your eyes. Force forbid I offend you.” 

When he looked up, there was no hint of malice or general offense on Rey’s face, just a gentle playfulness. He gave her a soft glare that only made her laugh. “I think that we should follow the coastline along, get across the river and then head down. There might be something around there.” She went on. 

He was still on the grass when he turned to look at her. _Just_ look. Her features soft shadows, her eyes that glinted and lit up when she smiled, her soft laugh that rang in his ears. He looked at her and there were a lot of possibilities that he could say. An unspoken question constantly lingering between them and flickering in and out of existence when it happened to be most convenient. 

But it was also an apology, an excuse, a generic saying that it wasn’t her but him and that it never could or would be her and while he did need this, whatever _this_ was, he didn’t want to ruin it. That didn’t mean that he didn’t want to try, but that was the only time that he could say that he was actually _scared_ of something. 

But he was always better with actions than words anyway.

The breeze was cold on his bare skin, but he moved into the water until he couldn’t touch the bottom anymore anyway. Weightless in the clear current, briefly suspended and completely submerged. Oddly, it was like some sort of cleanse.

If something could cleanse him of everything. He’d seen bad, done bad and had plenty of bad done to him and for a long time, he was the outright definition of everything _bad_. Now he was nobody and nothing with an almost fresh, clean slate and an undying hope that he wouldn’t ruin everything again. 

He could actually _fix_ things. 

Not everything, but some things.

There was a little distance, and they were still working their way gradually toward each other. If they rushed, it wouldn’t ruin it--ruin _them_ , but it wouldn’t be as satisfying in the end. Not as satisfying as he wanted it to be.

Later, he figured he’d think about how it felt to be aware of everything in the current moment and he'll pass it off as some kind of weird dream. Being confident. Unafraid. Ready. There was fear, but also acceptance.

His hand found hers under the water, or maybe it was hers that found his. When they broke the surface together and they found a spot where they could touch without being swept away, she draped her arms over his shoulders with a noticeable bit of distance between them. Droplets hung off of strands of her hair like a beaded curtain, her face flushed and a smile splitting wide across her cheeks. 

Ben’s palms settled shakily over her hips--and she sucked in a breath deep and ragged, his trembling fingers brushing against her bare skin. His heart leaped into his throat as she grew closer and while he waited for the cold, a particular heat flushed between them instead, their Dyad crackling with a ferocity as they drew closer, the thread between them drawn in tight and seemingly getting shorter.

He stared at her, blinked the water from his eyes. Exogol had changed something between them, and now it became startlingly apparent what exactly that was. They were heightened, a more permanent and forceful connection, one that left little room to simply drift apart lest they somehow in some way be dragged back together.

And she’d held his hand underneath the water where that something seemed to change. Where they went under and came back up and who they were suddenly became more clear. Rather, it became more clear that this, what _this_ was actually _could_ be. 

Kylo Ren had been insistent that he would destroy her.

Ben Solo wanted to be there to pick up the pieces. To help her come out stronger than whatever lay ahead. He denied it at every step, insisted that he couldn’t, that there wasn’t time, that there was more ahead they simply weren’t ready for.

If the Dyad had allowed it, why couldn’t he? Some strange cruelty when the Dyad promised them mercy? They both deserved a little mercy, he thought.

It was complicated. It made him dizzy to the extent that he had to close his eyes. It wasn’t how Ben Solo’s life was supposed to be, and most certainly not Kylo Ren’s. He likely should have rallied against destiny and its sick sense of humor, could have insisted that he would take what was given to him and whatever lay beyond that could never happen and somehow in some way whatever he ended up with even if it was neither wanted nor needed would somehow be a better alternative.

But this… _she_ was so much better.

And it scared him.

Rey’s fingers gingerly reached up and tucked a wet strand of hair behind his ear, her hand lingered just beside his cheek, eyes flickering over his face for what felt like an eternity as he grasped for the thoughts that passed through their thread. 

_I did want to take your hand. Ben’s hand._

_Rey. I want you to join me._

For a short moment, neither said anything. 

The sun seemed to move and the shadows that cast across the ground grew larger. It still touched her, gave it the slightest bit of a glow and her brown eyes seemed brighter, more free. _Content._

Content with him. Content with what was currently _happening_. 

Ben kissed the palm of her hand, pulled it away from his face to rest against his rapid heartbeat and leaned down to press his forehead to her own, thumbs sweeping across the ridges of her collarbones to linger down by her hands again. Her skin was icy but somehow also heated at the same time. 

Her nails gently grazed the length of his chest and he shivered, her hand finding his under the water, their fingers intertwining. 

When she leaned up to meet him, her mouth was against his, her lips pushing his further apart. She was not shy about it, there was no hesitance, not now. There was a force--although not _the_ Force--rather there was insistence, _hunger_ and it left him too dumbfounded to do anything except _feel_ it. 

He didn’t pull away, didn’t seize up. He laid his hand against the corner of her jaw, his thumb against her cheek and angling her so that he could kiss her deeper. Low heat pulsed through him, and he gently sighed against her lips. 

No guilt, and no fear even if he should be scared.

Only because it was an unfamiliar territory he had maneuvered in only once before in a dark unsure path. He pulled back for a second--enough to draw in a breath and catch a glimpse of her wide, bright eyes. A part of him wanted to keep that resistance, maintain his distance. He felt like he should have, should have let whatever _this_ is constantly lingering between them _go_. 

“Rey--”

“Be quiet, Ben.” Rey whispered and tugged him down again. 

He snorted, and it was a little dry and exasperated but he didn’t put up as much of a fight this time. Never had. She pressed closer to him and he realized how well they fit together before, how well they fit together now. How well they always had.

Rey felt right. 

His breathing was slow and steady to fight the thoughts creeping up on him, keep his mind from betraying him and telling him that this _wasn’t_ okay and he really wished it wouldn’t even try. He wanted to set that quiet longing part of himself free, to find the light in his darkness that would let him _have_ this. Rey found part of it, and he only wanted desperately to find the rest.

And he wanted so much for Rey to show it to him.. 

He touched her with purpose and meaning, slow and deliberate strokes up the length of her arms, her shoulders, her hips, one hand dropping to the small of her back and closing what little bit of distance between them lingered still. When he lifted his head to look into her eyes, he could see the confusion, the fear and the understanding as she lifted her hands from his chest and slid them up to his arms, his shoulders, his neck, cupped his face in her hands.

Ben wanted to speak but words wouldn’t come, couldn’t make themselves known between them. Not because he had nothing to say, but because he didn’t want to ruin this, ruin _them_. He brought his hand to her face instead, snaked his fingers back into her wet hair, palm against her cheek and his thumb skimming across her lips before he kissed her again. 

He did love her. And that seemed like the beginning and end of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I know it has been a while since my last update (going on two months actually) and I apologize seeing as I had been very efficient at updating weekly. I had trouble figuring out how to go about writing the next few chapters, and after a couple of weeks with constantly deleting and rewriting things, I decided to take a step back from it for a while and let it rest before I burnt myself out on it. 
> 
> So I wrote some other things (one fic I'm working on that I'm actually very excited about) did some other things, and gave it a little while to see if maybe taking a break would be enough to push the gears back into motion so to speak. I wasn't getting anywhere and I was getting very discouraged about the fic as a whole, meaning I was looking at the chapters I had already written and contemplated that my lack of ideas and motivation originated from some of the other chapters falling short somewhere, so I contemplated redoing them. I started rewriting the whole thing, edited some chapters, realized the thing was coming on 300 pages and realized I was not motivated to redo everything. 
> 
> So I sat back and looked at it, and I came to the realization that I adore it. I have the whole thing mapped from start to finish with room for some extra chapters put in there, and it is probably the only piece of writing I have done that I have mapped out and planned in all of its complicated entirety. So, why mess up what I've already built when I could keep going with what I've already got? The support from everyone has been amazing and I have appreciated every single comment/review, follow, favorite, etc etc etc. Seriously, it's been amazing!
> 
> After my two month hiatus, I decided that I was going to sit down and just work on it. Chapter be damned if I have to constantly retype or rework or edit it fifty million times until its right! And so I finished it today and it is here and it is updated and I am (mostly) back on track with where I need to be! <3 So I hope that you guys enjoy it and I hope that you continue to enjoy it from start to finish as I promise that it will eventually be finished, and hopefully there will not in the future be another super long hiatus. Bonus points is that I managed to get a lot of pieces of other chapters typed out and managed to map in some new plot points and stuff so there was a plus side to it all I guess. XD 
> 
> Other Note: I hope everyone is doing okay out there with everything going on in the world. Stay strong and don't forget to help each other out until all of this chaos is over! I hope everyone has a lovely day today! <3 :)


	25. A Knot (Rey)

Ben was a huge menacing presence at her back that wasn’t menacing at all. She didn’t see him as his parents had, talking behind closed doors and deluding themselves into thinking that he hadn’t heard--whispering about the anger and resentment that had boiled out of control inside of their son--speaking of him as if he wasn’t their son at all, but a monster.

_ You are a monster. _

_ Yes, I am.  _

He’d spoken those words with affirmation, but not because he had given the label himself, rather he had come to terms with it long before his descent into the mind of Kylo Ren. His eyes had been full of hurt, but acceptance. 

It didn’t prove difficult in their adventure to pretend that Kylo Ren and Ben Solo were separate entities, that Ben was not responsible for the atrocities that his other half had committed, but looking at him, marveling in the man that had followed her so far, her own delusion proved more real, reminded her that in a way, she was right. 

She hadn’t known what his parents had thought of him in their final moments, but she knew that her faith in him never wavered, not then and most certainly not now when he seemed so content. So  _ himself.  _

She smiled. 

Maybe that made her foolish or naïve, but she felt as if she was the one person in the galaxy who had any hope of understanding, and she strongly preferred that considering his alternative. 

Rey regarded him for a few moments, his tight jaw, dark eyes fixed on the sky above their heads, laid out in the grass with his arms propping his head up and having not yet taken the initiative to put his shirt back on. She hadn’t necessarily minded any of those things, watching him peek out from behind the shadow that had obscured him all this time. He’d saved her from the In-Between, braved the resistance only because she had asked him to with the knowledge that they would not welcome him home. 

Every day that had gone by, every hour that she’d spent with him, talked to him, wondered if he was conflicted inside, if he was hurting, or if he’d finally come to terms with everything that had happened and moved on, she could see the tension slipping from his muscles, the constant need to be on guard dissipating. For once, Ben looked at peace. 

More peaceful than when he’d slept with her in her bunk. 

She wondered how much he had let go since then, pushing back against the dark chipping away, curling itself inside and poisoning him.

They were going to need to talk about it. Eventually. 

But in the meantime: dinner.

It hadn’t taken long for the suns to set below the horizon and drown them in night, the rushing of water and the chirping of various insects occupying the silence as Rey waited with her spear hefted in one hand. She’d thrown her tunic and trousers back on, crouched on a rock and carefully eyeing the water’s surface--a more shallow part where it didn’t run as quick. 

Because of her lack of patience, the wait seemed much longer, her attention diverted between their meal and where Ben relaxed just behind her. 

Rey wanted to  _ see  _ it,  _ see  _ him in this new depth and absorb the moment for what it was worth--his still form and the slow rise and fall of his chest and his hair slightly obscuring his eyes. In her world, one could never be sure how long such a moment would last, and she held out hope that she could admire him for a while longer at least. 

She turned back to the task at hand with a soft exhalation of breath and a dismissive shake of her head, biding her time until she’d spotted a small silver body drifting by. With a precise motion and a steady hand, she plunged the spear into the water. 

The point stabbed directly into its body, and when she safely discarded it onto the bank at her left, she hefted the spear back and tried again--she couldn’t look at it wriggling, nor could she watch it struggle to breathe without feeling a pang of guilt, and Rey was well aware how ridiculous that sounded even to her. 

One quick sweep over the river’s surface, a soft scowl pulled at concentrated features. 

Then the river began to move, a subtle push and pull that didn’t quite match the current. Her brows creased, lowering her arm and stepping closer with more of a curiosity, lips slightly parted. The waves overlapped, a soft splash that suggested it was being  _ thrown _ . She didn’t see a larger creature, not outright, but the river’s ferocity intensified. 

“Ben--” Rey started.

A strong wave spouted upward and slammed squarely in the center of her chest. She barely had any time to draw in a shocked breath before she slipped on a wet stone and tumbled back into the grass.

With a startled gasp, she looked up just in time for one abrupt, singular gush of water to fall over her head, her once dry clothes now soaked, closing her eyes to brace herself against its attack. 

She spit water from her mouth, blinking furiously before throwing her forearm up to shield herself from the abundance of fish that flew with it and landed on the bank beside her. They flopped uselessly, heaving gills and mouths parting and closing with their ragged breathing. She turned her head, just barely catching Ben--albeit in the same position, the smile that played at his lips betrayed his innocence completely. 

“Ben!” She spluttered, chest heaving, a low growl rumbling in her stomach. 

“You looked like you were struggling,” Ben commented, waving his hand through the air as if it was so simple a concept to understand, that it was an excusable act for the sake of at least attempting to assist much to her own misfortune. “I was just trying to help.”

“You’re insufferable!” She made a face, but rather than feeling a sudden panic at a possible unknown attacker, she breathed out a laugh instead. With a shake of her head, she rose to her feet, wringing out her tunic. 

Ben perched himself up, holding all of his weight against his forearms, looking at her in all of her drenched glory with an amused smirk. 

She  _ hated  _ it. 

Yet it simultaneously left a flipping sensation in her stomach; gnawing, a harsh blush dusting her cheeks. Secretly, she blamed the Dyad--and recently it was getting more difficult to use their connection as an excuse to her feelings--but the thread whipped between them and seared with an untold energy. Insistent. Demanding. 

She rolled her eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, ignoring that insistent tugging at their thread that begged her to close the distance. 

“Sometimes you think I’m alright.”

“And sometimes I want to hit you.” 

“There are sometimes that you  _ don’t _ ?” He quipped. 

Rey crossed her arms, both as an attempt to appear angry and shield herself from the blustering wind. She shivered. 

It was still preferable to the hotter climate planets. “Yes.” She answered with honest sincerity. “But they are few and far between.” 

The thread burned, snapping with a fiery intensity as the space between them closed, opening up the parts of their minds that only recently they hadn’t tried so hard to keep hidden. She admired him as Ben,  _ her  _ Ben, both the man she knew all along and her Force Dyad, her soulmate, her  _ home.  _

Even if she tried to act as if she was angry, an action she ultimately failed.

Ben hovered so close before he actually leaned  _ in _ , wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head against the crease of her neck, feeling that sense of safety, security. He had to brace himself in order to keep them upright--pressing her drenched tunic against his bare chest. She felt the goosebumps that ran the length of his arms, and wrapped her own around his neck.

She caressed the side of his cheek where his scar had been before, pressing the utmost gentlest of a kiss there, just below his eye. She flashed him a smile, elated.

“Are you hungry?”

* * *

Rey watched the dance of orange and red in front of them while she gutted the fish and sliced them into fillets. The flames flicked high alongside a plume of smoke and sparks, the fish skin browned and crisped in the heat. The smell that radiated from it was heavenly, the rumbling in her stomach intensifying with the crackling flames and searing meat. She only hoped that she wasn’t drooling while sitting next to Ben, the only distraction from her appetite being her form pressed up against his, their legs touching, their sides molded into one another. Her head lingered just next to his shoulder until she finally leaned into it. 

“How does a scavenger from Jakku know how to cook fish?” 

“Rose taught me.” With her spear, Rey handed one of the fish over to Ben who straightened up to retrieve it. Her head slipped, coming to rest on his forearm instead and with a gentle sigh, she straightened to dig into her own meal instead. 

It was difficult to see him as anything other than a neglected boy that had grown into a man that had once desired nothing more than to live up to a family legacy, a bitter man looking for his place in the stars, a lonely troubled soul that went by the name  _ Ben _ . Kylo Ren did not exist in him now, or at least if he did, he was too obscured by Ben Solo to influence him anymore. 

A man who had once been so dangerous and had no qualms about taking a life, someone who could crush his enemies by flexing his thumb picked the parts that he didn’t like out of his meal. She smiled, digging into her meal much more ravenously and savoring the taste on her tongue. Her stomach growled with a vengeance, demanding more than what she was giving it at one time, and without hesitation, she shoveled the bits and pieces into her mouth. 

The sounds of flowing water and sputtering flames were lulling, the tension oozing out of her limbs and leaving her feeling oddly relaxed. Satisfied.  _ Happy _ . She envisioned all of the tension, all of tightness falling out and slipping into the river, being washed away and leaving her with a content feeling for as long as she allowed. Part of her wanted that to be forever, but even she knew that was impossible. 

Their lives would always be complicated, what lingered between them was more than complicated, but they were somewhere and that counted for something. 

With a full belly, Rey found it much more difficult to stay awake. Her eyes fluttered momentarily, a cloudless night blurring just behind her eyelids--the rain had ceased several hours ago, but because of Ben’s prank, a slight shiver seeped through her drenched clothes and she found herself pressing closer. 

She leaned into Ben, him providing a necessary cushion as her eyes closed. 

“We can go back to the ship if you want.” He mumbled into her hair.

“It’s fine unless you think you can carry me the entire way.”

He chuckled low, the rumbling soft against her ear. “I have before.”

Looking back now, it felt like such a simpler time. A terrified scavenger with no idea or plan for the future running away from a cloaked figure in the forest while her friends fought for their lives around her. She’d been whisked away to safety, put under his spell while he personally saw her to his ship where they would inevitably talk for the first time. 

“How could I forget?” 

She felt him smile next to her at the memory, the warmth of his thoughts reverberating to her. A brief image came to her, his hand rising toward her, the trepidation that flashed through her eyes. Then they were both surprised, the feeling that had passed between them; an energy they recognized in each other. It was gone and suddenly they were labeled adversaries again, but they both knew after that moment that they wouldn’t be the same.

They both harbored dark and light, but the only part that mattered was which they chose to act on and she liked to think they were doing well so far, considering. 

A silence stretched thin between them but not in a way she found awkward. They were two beings occupying the same space, something she most certainly didn't  _ mind _ , not that she ever had before. It gave her time to  _ think  _ and thinking about their moment in the water only made that childlike giddiness swell inside of her. 

She was unable to hide her smile, a flush to her cheeks as she recounted the moments after where they didn’t part with a hushed excuse, rather absorbed the rare and forgotten warmth of two lonely people finally reunited after a lifetime of knowing some part was missing. 

_ Finally _ , he had removed his metaphorical mask that kept the most private and intricate parts of him hidden from her, a gesture of vulnerability, and  _ trust _ . They’d both smiled and laughed at how ridiculous they’d been and she’d seen that happiness bring him to life at last.

Rey tried to remember to breathe and was suddenly reminded that an infinite galaxy did exist and she wanted to see it all with Ben. Some day. 

Beside her, he shifted and when she opened her eyes again Ben was resting his cheek against her head, taking her hand into his own. They braced themselves against the wind, blustering through the grass and whipping against their backs. 

Neither were cold. 

Ben’s eyes were cast out to nowhere in particular, but he looked more at peace than she had ever seen him. 

“Ben?”

“Hm, what?” It must have been the tone of her voice, a questionable inquiry that flicked a part of the thread between them with general anxiety. It pricked her chest momentarily, and she imagined how hard it was hitting Ben just then. 

She gave him a smile and gently squeezed his thigh to help ease the tension.

“I’m proud of you.” Rey assured him gently, if only to let him know. “You’ve come a long way.”

A look of relief had gone and passed, as if he had any reason to worry about what she thought of him since his slow ascent into the light side, as if he  _ feared  _ that she thought of him any differently for his struggling to be something more, something  _ good _ . “So have you.”

“We would have lost the war if you hadn’t been brought back to the light. I guess I just want you to know that I saw you. I saw that you were trying.”

“I wish I could have done it sooner.”

Ben wedged himself in her heart, whether she wanted him to or not. He made her feel worthy, not alone. She didn’t quite know what to do when he came to her, but when they touched hands it cemented her fate. 

“You did in the end.” She mused quietly, tucking the bottom of her head underneath his chin, feeling the rapid pulsating of his heart in her ears. “Now all that’s left is to figure out what you want to do with your freedom.”

“Stay with you.” Ben answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Go to Naboo. Follow whatever happens to come after that.”

“You’ve got it figured out.” She grinned. 

“One of the few things.” And she felt him grin back.

Her lips pressed together as she asked her next question more carefully, treading into an unknown territory when it came to asking about Ben’s inner thoughts rather than peering into them directly. Simply  _ looking  _ felt invasive, almost as invasive as finding him nude in the washroom because she had thought he was being attacked while being indecent. At least if he had been fighting some sort of enemy, she could have saved him the humiliation by being there to help.  “You mentioned before on Tattooine that you knew the difference between what was real and what wasn’t. What did you mean by that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” His voice was so soft and abstract from the dark timber that she was used to. “I didn’t before, when I first joined the order. I think I was too young for that, but eventually some things just started to make sense.”

Rey cast her eyes up at him, looking so relaxed in his posture. “What began to make sense?”

It wasn’t the reaction that she was expecting, but he pulled in a deep inhale. He suddenly became distant, his features tensed and the curve of his brow pulled into a hesitant scowl. And just like that, he was locking his mind from her, shifting so that she had to sit up and snake her neck back to see him clearly. 

“Nothing. We should go.” He stated flatly.

“What did I--?”

“I mean, we  _ need  _ to go.” He turned and threw his head upwards and only then did she just barely catch a blurry shape in the distance descending into the atmosphere. Straight for them.

A ship--a First Order Dreadnought if she wanted to be really precise in that moment. Not one, but several.

Ben was suddenly moving to his feet and grabbing for her wrist. “Come on.” He urged, already tugging her with clear restraint to not break into a run. 

The tension that radiated off of him was strong, suffocating and terrifyingly familiar. Even his own rising anxiety couldn’t overshadow it, something that lingered just a little bit above the rest, but noticeably snuffed out. A spark demanding to be rekindled, and it was growing stronger.

The dark side. 

“Ben, calm down.” She ushered him gently. 

All it took was his actions to know there was something else, nothing she could ask right then. Rey used the water from her canteen to pour over the fire, scattering the twigs as much as possible to cover their tracks. It would look like a camp, the flattened grass would spring back and all that would remain would be a small scorch mark in the ground. 

To a dedicated tracker, it would be obvious but there was also the possibility a pursuer would walk over it--she hoped as much. They both ran through the long grass towards the river. It was only upon reaching it that she realized they had run into a dead end. The embankment was a steep incline of dirt and moss with no clear sign as to how they would get back up. “This way!” She pointed before taking the lead

They headed east along the river against the flow of water. There had been too many instances through passersby on trader’s ships or merchants of foolish or inebriated travelers who had dared the waters at night and were never seen again, drowned or caught in some current and pulled downstream. The water was slow moving, but in her current state, she couldn’t help but entertain the possibility for it to be the one thing that would finally do her in. 

The further up they went, the darkness offered by the cloud and late hour caused a dusky atmosphere. It was getting difficult to see too far ahead of them but they pressed on, feet occasionally losing their footing against rocks or algae. Ben retained his tight hold on her wrist, and she pulled back to intertwine their fingers instead. Somehow that seemed to calm him--subtle, but she would take it if it would obscure that bit of darkness that tried to undo what he had accomplished thus far.

Everything ahead was a blur outlined by mountains and a distant forest. Nothing else was visible, and she became starkly aware that they were out in the open with the only hope of obscurity being tall grass. Vulnerable. She took a beeline and slid down a vertical slope. 

Ben followed her down, feet skidding as he came to a stop nearly running into her back as she surveyed the unknown land around them. 

Unfortunately, the wind hadn’t stopped its torrent but they pushed through. The river was still too wide to swim across, but her feet carried her up a tall mound and she turned her head over her shoulder to see if a pursuer was visible. 

Nothing. 

It was a good sign, but not anything that settled her nerves. Adrenaline coursed through her body, propelling her legs and feet to go faster. Her heart hammered in her chest, and blood rushed through her veins and threatened to burst. At the top of the mound, the embankment below slipped away, and further down she could just scarcely catch a glimpse of an overhang. “In here!”

Rey jumped down, landing in the rocks on the side of the river as she scrambled into the rock shelter, shielding them from above. It offered protection from the wind, and hopefully protection from their possible pursuers.

She pressed her body up against the dark and jagged wall and inhaled several shaky breaths, ragged thanks in part to the sudden burst of running. Even then her body took a moment to catch up with the sudden stillness, hands shaking. 

Ben followed in tow, landing quite clumsily on the rocks as he moved into the shelter beside her. He took no consideration into putting space between them--even if the cramped space didn’t allow much room to  _ not  _ be touching. He backed up, pulling her back as his arm braced in front of her, his tall form overshadowing hers quite easily. 

She looked over to Ben and caught his eye, holding one finger to her lips.

Through the wind, after what felt like a literal eternity, she made out slow and steady footsteps in the grass above. Inside, she was in turmoil, a deep guilt that if they were caught it would be due to her own incompetence. Ben had trusted her, and she had failed. It curled up inside of her chest and created a tightness, a choking in her throat that developed.

Rey told herself to suppress it so she could concentrate on the steps. 

On the top of the mound, above where they were, they stopped. Whoever it was, they were taking the opportunity to look out to the hills and along the river, across the landscape, surveying it for any silhouettes. Fear rippled through her. They were so  _ close _ . Her eyes were pointed up, wishing they could bore through the rock and fall upon the person up there. 

Was it the First Order?

Was it the resistance looking for her? 

For Ben?

The footsteps had stopped, but the person lingered. She heard a small thump and to her utter horror, a pair of hands started feeling along the edge of the rock.

Beside her, Ben’s chest heaved as he gulped down air as quietly as he could, eyes warily flicking to the overhang. His form was tense, fingers twitching at his side with what she could only assume was ill intentions. With slow and careful steps,  _ searching _ , and the glimpse of a shadow, Rey felt a twist in her gut, a stabbing sensation that threatened to take what little breath she had from her. She only hoped for a simple misunderstanding.

And silently did she hope for a quick death at least, no drawn out monologues or any chances for “last words”. She knew what her last words would be, and also a hand gesture that she wouldn’t need to speak for this new enemy to understand. She thought she deserved to be that petty at least, if those were to be her final moments. A few days was long enough to see the world, she supposed. Or at least to spend with Ben. 

An icy wave of panic burst from her chest. She fought every urge to run, just barely catching Ben’s eye and shaking her head with a silent warning.

_ Don’t. _

Their gazes were torn back as the silhouette felt around the overhang, urging her to press back further into their hiding place. 

It was too late. 

The hands vanished, their absence quickly replaced by a form jumping off the top and landing where they had been only moments before--rocks kicked out from underneath his feet and tumbled into the river, the sound echoing much louder in her ears with her own rising panic. 

He straightened into a taller posture, facing the river before turning around. 

The newcomer was tall, albeit not as tall as Ben, with warm eyes and still wearing the same ratty resistance jacket since landing on Jakku for the first time when she’d nearly killed him for thinking he had stolen it--he had  _ technically  _ stolen it. He looked relieved, even overjoyous to see her. 

“Thank the force, it's you!” He let out a small cry of relief. 

She was glad to see him too, but even that feeling suddenly morphed into one of dread.

“ _Finn_?” even over joyous to see her. 

“Thank the force, it's you!” He let out a small cry of relief. 

She was glad to see him too, but even that feeling suddenly morphed into one of dread.

“ _Finn_?”


	26. New Plan (Finn)

Finn breathed in, eyes crossed with a raging focus as a soldering iron lingered dangerously close to the other hand that gingerly clutched metal bits and pieces. Holding his breath helped to steady his hand somewhat, but he was acutely aware of how close he was to zapping his wrist. His eyesight was split out of focus, and as he leaned in toward the makeshift handle, hunched over one of the workbenches, a sharp stab against the ball of his palm made him recoil. 

Hissing out a slew of curses, he dropped it on the table with a resounding metal clang, the other slamming the iron down to grip at his wrist. He flexed his fingers, sucked in sharply, and then blew a soft exhalation of breath on it only to close his eyes and wait for the pain to subside enough for him to think.

With an exaggerated huff of frustration, he grasped at his face, his elbows sliding across the benches surface until he settled for throwing his head down in his arms, grimacing only to himself about having been ignorant enough to attempt such a feat in the first place.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

His frown deepened, peeking out from the side of his biceps. “Yeah, well, thank you Captain Obvious. It doesn’t have to be this hard, either.” He straightened, swiveling in his seat to face Poe in the doorway who more or less looked at him with some form of pity--and a raised eyebrow that begged the question of what he was  _ actually  _ doing without him having to voice it aloud.

“I’m going to say nothing except that you’re lucky you haven’t burned out your eye.” Poe came to stand at his side, perching one hand on Finn’s shoulder, peering over him to look at the failure of his current project. “What are you doing?”

“I thought that if I was going to be given force powers that I would need something to fit the role. I looked into schematics, but--” He rolled his eyes, sweeping the contents into a small disorganized pile. “It’s a lot more complicated than it looks.”

“Being a Jedi isn’t a walk in the park.” Poe huffed out a laugh. “But you’ve fought Kylo Ren and you’re not dead so I guess that means that you’re not completely inept.”

Finn turned in his chair again, casting a sweeping stare over the table and looking no clearer than it had the first time. “Ren wasn’t trying to kill me. He could have, even when he saw I was a defective trooper, but he didn’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” He lifted the handle to survey it, a mess of cluttered wires and broken switches. “Honestly I’m too afraid to ask.”

“Smart man, but maybe pack up your science project for now, huh?” Poe perched on the edge of the workbench next to him, folding his arms. He obscured the device from view, it jutting out from behind him but every attempt Finn made to look, he leaned over just inside his peripherals.

Finn scowled.

“I will, but I can’t stay.” Rising from his chair, he absent-mindedly squeezed past a dumbfounded Poe--not having to look to know the ferocity of the glare that was being thrown his way, the burning sensation in the back of his skull enough of an indicator.

“What do you mean?  _ Going _ ? Going where?”

“To find Rey.”

“Are you still on this?”

“Hux is going to be looking for Ren which means he’s going to find Rey.” He reminded him for what genuinely seemed like the umpteenth time, or maybe Finn had just reiterated it too many times in order to convince himself. “And I need her to show me how this force stuff works, and the sensitives will need someone with more experience than me.”

“You’ve  _ got  _ this.” Poe assured him. When Finn turned, he could see the look of determination in his friend’s eyes, the  _ confidence  _ that he held in him.  _ For  _ him. “Rey isn’t going to come back without Kylo, and the resistance won’t take Rey back with him. It’s not going to end well.”

“I’m at least going to talk to her. If nothing else plead my case and see what she says.” He decided. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I think that if I did, I could’ve done something about Hux. If there is a new order building itself, Rey deserves to know about it. We  _ just  _ ended a war.”

“We’re probably the last ones to know about the New Order.”

“No. He’s determined to see Kylo dead. I think that was his first move, and making sure everyone knows that  _ he  _ killed the previous supreme leader is how he’s going to stay in control.” He whipped around, his project forgotten--not that he was making much headway with it anyway--and made for the hall. 

Poe followed him. “You think?”

“You’ve seen Hux. Do you really think that anyone would be afraid of him?”

“Good point.”

The double doors that led out into the hallway hissed with their exit, the calmness of the morning overcast by the heaviness of their current situation. Finn couldn’t shake it. Not like Poe who was trying his damned hardest to pretend like everything was fine.

Every single battle they’d fought, every ship that had nearly--or had actually--crashed, every single inch that they’d grown closer to death? Child’s play. Stand up and brush it off.

Talking with Rey while she was with Kylo Ren Impossible, apparently.

The transition from Crait to Ajan Kloss had gone seamlessly as far as the resistance had been concerned. They slipped back into a normal routine, and Finn and Poe hadn’t needed to offer any source of direction as far as actually telling them what  _ needed  _ to be done. 

Fortunate for Finn really. He wasn’t in the right mindset to organize patrols or address the current militant state of the galaxy. If Hux was looking for Ren, they still had some time, and that was what urged Finn to go to the small broom closet that had passed as his room, a secluded box grouped with many more secluded boxes that housed the barest essentials and the only privacy being a small curtain that didn’t actually offer much privacy.

He tossed a bag onto his bed, stuffing what little he had inside of it and throwing it over his shoulder. It wasn’t much--considering he left the majority of it back on Crait and Rose had been kind enough to grab some of the basic necessities, but the thought of leaving struck him with a sudden sense of guilt. 

Leaving them behind. Walking away after everything they had given him since he had abandoned his position as a Stormtrooper. It was eerily similar and ironic considering who he was leaving to find had done the exact same thing. Even the reasoning behind it still held the basic concept, and the fact that Finn had slid by while they threw all of their grief on Kylo Ren.

Finn hadn’t killed as many people, no, but he was still an accessory in some way.

Shaking his head, he looked around the room with one more finality to his last second decision. Turning, Poe still stood in the doorway, cocked eyebrow, ever  _ irritating  _ as always. This time, his eyes only held a basic understanding; basic comprehension.

By some divine power, for once he didn’t argue. “I’m not going to say that you’re betraying me right now, but you’re betraying me right now.” Poe sniffed, drawing his lower lip between his teeth.

Finn shook his head, gently shoving past him out into the empty hallway. Nonetheless, he kept his voice low while his companion was much louder. “Grow up.” 

“You’re also betraying yourself. You already know what her answer is going to be.” Poe retorted, walking along at his heels and acting like a bug in his ear that he could swat at but wouldn’t leave.

No, he couldn’t be that lucky. 

“I won’t know if I don’t try.” Finn stopped, the suddenness causing Poe to walk directly into his back, his nose pressed against his shoulder blades, taking a few steps back to put a much needed space between them as Finn whipped around, his temper flaring. “I can do this by myself. I don’t  _ need _ you telling me what to do, okay?” He uttered low, ducking his head as if that would help obscure their conversation more.

Curious passersby looked, but none seemed wary of their conversation. 

“Really?” Poe’s eyebrows shot up--after giving a forced smile to one of their members in particular and acknowledging them with a nod before he addressed Finn again--something told him that he would somehow be right in whatever world Poe had deemed he was  _ always  _ right. “Like how to build a lightsaber?” His tone practically  _ oozed  _ challenge. “How to fly a ship? I can only teach you one of those things.”

He  _ was  _ actually right about that.

Finn’s frustration rivaled any cohesive statements that Poe may have had.

“If you had just--if you hadn’t--”

“If I hadn’t what? Betrayed Rey? Just say it.” 

“Betrayed Rey--”

“Rey did this to herself. She didn’t have to leave. You weren’t here and you just saw what you wanted to see.” He snapped through grit teeth, standing so close that Finn had to duck his head, his gaze sweeping over the ground. Only because in a way Poe was right, and Finn wasn’t going to let him actually  _ see  _ the realization that was likely etched all over his face.

“I don’t need you talking me out of it.”

“I’m not trying to talk you out of it. I’m telling you to let me come with you.” Except Poe wasn’t asking for permission, leaving no room for Finn to actually refuse. “Let Rose come with you.” He shuffled in a bit closer, one hand tapping against his abdomen as he nodded his head toward the technician’s bay where Rose had claimed as home. “It’ll be a wasted effort, but you’re not doing this alone.”

“What about the Resistance?”

“They can handle things long enough for Rey to reject you and for us to get back.”

Finn nodded sarcastically with an equally sarcastic smile, straightening stiffly into his full overbearing height. “I’m glad you have faith in me.” He mumbled.

“If Rey will listen to anyone, it’ll be you.” 

* * *

“ _ Finn _ ?”

She was soaking wet, her hair disheveled and flyaway strands plastered to her forehead, the fabric of her robes soaked and sticking to her frame, threads fraying and coming apart. She wasn’t the only one that looked worse for wear.

Yet she also seemed strangely rejuvenated.

But she also didn’t look as happy as he’d thought she would have, suddenly feeling apprehensive about his plan as a whole. 

Part of him was thankful that he had instructed Poe to stay on the ship while Finn traversed an unknown planet looking for them, otherwise he would surely be subjected to the  _ I told you so  _ that would come directly after the rejection. He wasn’t entirely sure that he could deal with that underneath the current circumstances. “I need to talk to you,” he began, eyes flicking uneasily to the side where Ren stood--a shirtless Kylo Ren he had only just noticed.

Finn shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Maybe it was the way that Ren looked at him--as if he was waiting for a reason to consider Finn a threat --or his protective stance next to Rey that made Finn want to back out and turn home. He stood his ground, adding more tentatively. “ _ Alone _ .”

Rey hesitated at his request, lips parting and closing. Fortunately, and with great reluctance, she turned to Ren and jerked her head toward the opening to the overhang. “Could you give us a minute please?”

“Sure,” He mumbled tersely, disappearing out from the overhang and climbing back up the slope. 

The two waited in agonizing silence--Rey letting out an exhausted exhalation of breath--until they were sure it was only the two of them, and no sooner than they had been positive that he was out of earshot did he finally go to speak, preparing to ask the most obvious question:  _ will you come back _ ?

“No.”

_ Oh.  _

He deflated. “You didn’t know what I was even going to say.”

“I didn’t have to.” She moved further back into the overhang, her shoulder pressed against the wall. “What are you doing here, Finn? How did you find us?”

“Poe had your ship pinged.” If looks could in fact kill, Finn would have been dead, brought back, dead, and brought back again just to inevitably be on the receiving side of her spear. Watching her face pinch into a deeper scowl, he quickly continued, holding up his hands, palms out both as a truce and a sure sign of surrender. “That’s not why I’m here. We weren’t following you, not initially and we’re not looking for the two of you because of Ren--”

“ _ Ben _ .” She corrected.

“We were looking for just  _ you _ . I need your help.”

“I can’t help you.” Rey’s jaw set, crossing her arms with a helpless, defeated shrug. “And I can’t come back.” But her eyes flickered with apprehension, and while she may not have been sure at first, he knew that she would at least  _ listen  _ and  _ consider.  _ Really, that was all he needed.

“I need your help with the Force Sensitives.” He went on, more desperate, more pleading. “Help me train them, and train  _ me. _ They’ll have a better chance with you.”

“I can’t.” She whispered, almost inaudibly, but he could see the way it dug at her heart, a knot of regret coiling inside of her stomach, something akin to shame. Failure?

“I can talk to Poe.” Finn compromised. “We can figure something out!”

“Can we?” She suddenly snapped, fixing him with a hard glare above a tight-lipped smile. There was no sort of joy in her eyes, nothing but a genuine disbelief. In him or Poe, he couldn’t quite tell, but he only hoped that her distrust remained on just one of them. “We saw how well it worked out for Ben the first time, didn’t we?”

“You can’t blame them for being cautious.” Finn reasoned “And you can’t blame Poe for doing what he thought was best for the Resistance. He did what he thought would make everyone more comfortable while Ren--” Finn caught himself, quickly making a correction before she had time to apprehend him once again for his repeated slip-up. “Ben was transitioning. He carried it too far, fine, but he had good intentions.”

“Rose was the only one willing to give him a chance.” Rey shot back. 

“Because of you.” Finn pushed the flaps of his jacket aside, placing his hands on his hips. He ducked his head, voice low. “Let’s not forget that the First Order was the reason that her sister--” He paused, his mouth pressed into a thin, tense line. 

Rey understood, and he was grateful that he didn’t have to finish the rest of it. The sorrow in her eyes was immeasurable, and albeit Rey having never met Paige--hell, neither had Finn--he knew that she would have considered her family all the same.

Neither chose to dwell on it, the moment word to mouth rather than anything they’d had the misfortune to experience, and Finn was already moving on. “Look,” he sighed. “I’m starting to understand.”

“Understand  _ what _ ?” 

“Why Poe is so mad; why the Resistance is hesitating to trust you.” Finn looked up just long enough to see his words cut through her like a knife, one jagged line that cut deep and left her looking as if she was about to fall apart. “It’s because we all care about what happens to the Resistance more than  _ you  _ do.”

She didn’t have an excuse, and she couldn’t form a quip fast enough to stop his sudden reprimand. “I’m not surprised I’m just…” His tongue clicked behind his teeth, shrugging. “Disappointed.”

The arms braced across her chest molded tighter, her lips pulled back in disgust. She switched her weight, and he could see the different variations of an answer flickering in her eyes. “That--”

His lips parted, but she held up a hand. Anxiety turned to anger, and suddenly she rounded on him, eyes narrowed into sharp slits.

“That’s  _ low _ . For  _ you _ .” She spat. “And it’s also _ not _ true.”

He reached for her.

Rey retreated, refusing to look at him now, her arms dropping to her sides in tightly coiled fists as she turned her back. “I’m not sorry for supporting Ben, or for bringing him back to the Resistance. He deserves a second chance like you, and me,” she looked down. “And Poe.”

“I never said that he didn’t.” Finn scratched at the nape of his neck, stretching it back with an exasperated sigh. “But it takes time for people’s opinion to change, and I just don’t know what you were thinking, bringing him back and hoping that we would make a decision in your favor.”

But Finn hated that he couldn’t stay angry at her, and that with just one look, she gave him all of the excuses she would ever need to justify her reasoning for  _ anything _ .

Maybe his judgement concerning Rey  _ was _ clouded, but it wasn’t something that he would consider changing.

Rey swiped at her nose, sniffling in the dark. Her eyes were strained, fluttering underneath a watery sheen. 

And that only made him feel worse.

“It didn’t matter what I was thinking. I just wanted to help Ben. I wanted to do what I promised General Organa.” She struggled to meet his eyes despite his attempts to catch them, turning his head but that only seemed to make her shy away more. A frustrated growl rumbled in her throat. “I don’t know.” 

“Come back to the Resistance with me. We will talk to Poe, and it won’t be easy, but you have to give us time to try. A chance; that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Poe couldn’t come and tell me that himself?” She challenged. “Does he even know you’re here?”

“He’s waiting on the ship with Rose. He’s not thrilled, but he’s willing to try if you will.” Finn offered a smile, subtle but genuine. One of the few he’d managed the last few days considering the absolute chaos he’d walked in on and suddenly played the mediator for. “He’s also been trying to put together an apology.” And he had. Finn had heard the first few while manning the co-pilot’s seat and while they weren’t the  _ best,  _ and had some variation that Poe was still  _ right _ , it left a warm feeling in Finn’s chest that his friend at least considered his suggestion.

“Is that why you’re riding around in First Order ships now? Was that part of the apology?”

His features pinched in confusion. “ _ What _ ?”

“I saw the ships,” Rey declared with firm but disdainful conviction. “They were First Order models.”

“Oh,” Finn mumbled, wide-eyed. “Oh, no.” He cursed underneath his breath, eyes squeezing shut as his hands came up to grip his skull. Of course,  _ of course  _ they had been followed. 

“What’s going on?”

Finn whipped around, his tone hushed, eyes warily glancing around for any sign of Ren. Or anyone else who very well could have eavesdropped. A new sense of urgency took over him. “It’s a lot to explain, but Hux is back and he’s taken over the First Order. It’s called the New Order now, which is actually a very bad name, but--”

“The First Order is being revived?” Rey blinked, her head dipping forward. Not that she actually needed help to hear him. The truth had rung out clearly.

“Yes,” Finn gasped. “And he’s looking for Kylo Ren--” He mentally kicked himself, but thankfully she looked too perturbed by the revelation to apprehend him for it again. “He wants him dead, and he knows that the two of you didn’t die on Exogol.”

“ _ Oh _ .”

“He would be safer on his own, Rey.” 

“He would be safer with  _ us. _ ” Her lips were parted, soft and vulnerable with her own rising doubt.

“Okay, maybe.” He relented, bracing his arms out on either side of him. “What if Hux finds us again, huh? We got lucky once, but I came to find you before he did. I can negotiate with Poe, and we can figure out  _ something _ but we don’t have a lot of time so I need a decision from you now.”

“I just don’t think--”

“Right now.” 

“Will Ben be treated like a prisoner?”

“I don’t want that, but you have to let everyone cool off. They’re freaked out with everything as it is. If you want to come find him later, have him wait a few weeks until we can explain to everyone and make arrangements we will, but I  _ need  _ you to come back with me.” More tentatively, he added. “I’ll do what I can, I  _ promise  _ you.”

Her features folded over, hesitant, her eyes flickering around their surroundings as if something in the environment would help offer up an answer. 

Yet, there was no more ambiguity about what it was that they had to do, no more seesaw of balancing one particular element over the other, rather a purpose was laid out before her, and Finn would even be so brazen as to admit a destiny.

The only question was what happened from here at this moment. Watching her fumble and grasp for thoughts and answers, he didn’t quite know what that would be.

Rey caught him with a hardened stare, and a newfound resolve.

“Okay.”


	27. Goodbye (Rey)

It became a game of who would talk first.

Ben had been waiting for her, and somehow that made finding any words to express their current situation nigh to impossible--made more impossible by the simple fact that he had yet to put on a shirt, seeming none too bothered by the blustery wind that blew through the fields and Rey only hoped that it wasn’t because the potential fragility of the subject was somehow keeping him warm.

“Could you…” She threw a vague hand gesture over his bare chest, turning her gaze away lest she be entranced by a view she had seen many times before. Not that she would ever grow tired of seeing it. “Do you have a shirt or maybe a cowl that you could put on?”

“You’re not coming.” He concluded, and when she didn’t provide an answer, he turned his head with a disbelieving scoff.

That only made her feel worse.

The faces of the Force Sensitive children swam to the very forefront of her mind. She remembered being that young, knowing something had lied dormant inside of her but having no one to help acknowledge or tell her what to do with it. She’d been lost for a long time, and concluded then that she didn’t want anyone else--let alone children--to follow her example.

Rey couldn’t stay, but she couldn’t leave them. Not yet. The thought lurched her insides but this time she had to resist the natural inclination to grab his hand. It was a weak and futile attempt to veil thoughts and emotions that he’d already seen, thoughts that probably only made him angrier because he was  _ right.  _

When he’d first seen her, a spark of relief had ignited in him now that where they stood had been private--mostly private--a look of relief taking to his face until he’d seen her own expression in comparison. Once a place for them to simply be, and talk without worry of who may have been listening or why. A place of no judgement, no harm, and a place for their Dyad to surge.

The complete opposite of what was happening now. 

Except that their Dyad did tug at her, beckoning her to draw closer much faster and reach out to him.

Just as quickly as she’d felt it, it’d been snuffed out. He maintained a few feet of space between them, his thumbs and index fingers rubbing together at his sides. The revelation had hit him hard--both of them--and it was enough to make him retreat further, his expression twisting into one of confusion, of hurt and betrayal.

“You’re going back to the Resistance?”

Rey should have expected it. Their lives had taken them down two completely different paths, so much further away from the other and in a place neither would be able to reach unless they lost some part of themselves. Ben had lost a part of himself to return home with her, an entire life that he had made in order to cope with his newfound power.

He’d let it go, had given it up to bring her back to him on Exogol, but now he was forced with the choice of letting her go too. At least that was his choice to make. “ _ Why _ ?”

Kylo Ren had begged her once to let the past die. Rey had heard the weight of the memory stir itself alive within her mind as he unfurled his disbelief and hurt to her. She felt it quake across the Force, a promise of intent so very cold and definite, it tugged her back to a time so far removed from when Ben had not been Ben, but something much darker and more volatile. He begged her now in his own unspoken away.

_ Don’t go.  _

“Finn asked for my help. There are things that I still need to do before we can go to Naboo,” she began helplessly trying to formulate a good enough reason into words. The weight of her heart hammered like lead in her chest, the thing they shared--their Dyad--demanded closure of the space between, but he wouldn’t have it. She couldn’t bear his rejection even if she deserved it.

And by the stars did she deserve it.

“We’ve saved Force Sensitive orphans. We can house them back on base, and I can train them to hone their abilities. There could be a new generation of Jedi properly guided-- She was rambling, but it came out of waves of desperation aching for him to understand. This wasn’t  _ forever _ . It was only  _ right now _ . The idea of their separation cleaved her in two, especially if she would be leaving Ben to face things on his own, but this other matter was larger than even her.

And all she could return to again and again was recalling how often she felt like a nobody: misplaced and forgotten, surviving by the skin of her existence with a latent power that simmered through her veins. “It won’t be long.” She promised. “I’ll come for you, Ben,” she swore it with every single part of her down to the smallest atom. Her throat ached with the strain of unbidden tears, hands reaching for him to get that degree of physical connection to root that sincerity in him. Wherever he would go, she would follow.

Just not yet.

Not while she had the opportunity to make  _ something  _ right. How could she turn her back on the Force’s calling and shut it out as Luke had?

“A new generation of Jedi?” Ben practically spit the words out, recoiling from her touch to stand so much farther back, separated from her, looking at her with contempt and distrust. “Have you learned nothing from Snoke, from Palpatine, Darth Vader,  _ Luke Skywalker _ ?” He  _ actually  _ laughed, an incredulous half-hearted laugh that breathed the ridiculousness of the subject between them, as if he couldn’t believe that she could be so foolish. 

Trembling fingers ran through his hair in frustration, tousling it in a way that made her heart leap. She frowned at him. 

He was playing dirty.

He was turning on her, his words lashing out with every bit of aggression as he could muster, his brows pinched together as the Force trembled around them with a ferocity. It shuddered and quaked, Ben throwing a hand to the side to further iterate his point. “The only thing you’ll be  _ accomplishing  _ is making more threats! A new threat to the galaxy, Rey!” The weight of his own words hit him just as hard, not just that she was willingly reigniting a new Jedi Order when the war was finally over, but that she was turning her word on him to do such. 

“I won’t be.” She reassured him, her eyes widening at the sudden hostility in his tone. “I can show you. Just let me try!”

“I told you to let the old ways die. Everything. I told you to kill it, and you might think that you can properly guide them, but you  _ can’t _ .”

Rey’s expression dropped, her heart plummeting into the bottom of her stomach.

He was still going before she had any time to make up an excuse, pointing his fingers directly at his own chest to further iterate his words. “My own parents couldn’t control me. The Skywalker bloodline couldn’t control me. I fell to the dark side of the Force even with their influence. Sometimes you just  _ can’t _ .” The outage in his voice was clear, raw and unspoken anger that he lashed out at her now. Every ounce of betrayal, of hurt, of disbelief echoed across the field and settled around them in one tense, heated wave.

_ The darkness was already in you, Ben. Your parents betrayed you, Luke Skywalker betrayed you.  _

But she couldn’t say that. Couldn’t will herself to repeat what she knew to be the truth. He’d been manipulated by Snoke, his family had feared him and offered no support. Luke Skywalker’s solution was to kill him. Rey wouldn’t make that mistake.

“I will guide them just like the old ways. I can help them find light just how the Jedi Order did so many years ago.”

“The Jedi are failures. They’re a dogmatic, pious cult with stubbornness and arrogance as their established power structure.” A visible tremor in his limbs betrayed any semblance of calm, not that he was trying to hide anything from her now. His mind was wide open. “The Force doesn’t belong to the Jedi. Strip away their myth and they’re  _ failures _ . They allowed Darth Sidious to rise, create the empire, and wipe them out. It was a Jedi master who was responsible for the training and creation of my grandfather. They turned children into obedient soldiers just like the First Order.”

Rey shook her head. It was not difficult to read the stubborn determination on her face, the unwillingness to abide by a simple  _ no.  _ The voice of reason stood unperturbed by the voice of reason. “He was misguided. He was influenced by the dark side just as you were.”

“You’re promising a future downfall for the Resistance, and I will  _ not  _ be a part of that.” The hand that he had extended before was closed, now a metaphorical fist as every wall was put up to protect him. From her. All of his memories of manipulation came crashing back to her so fast, countless downfalls of many Jedi from previous Force users. A repetitive process, running in one circular motion before imploding on itself.

Ben believed she had known that. He thought that she would know better than anyone. Curse him for thinking that he could be right about  _ something _ .

He both walled himself off from her and let her feel the brunt of his ire at the same time. It blunted against the softness of her vulnerability, slitting uselessly against her defenses as he let his anger consume him. Despite it, all of his words spoke to a logic that she rejected. “No--” She argued, biting back against the rising panic and the welling of tears in her throat. “No! We will be giving them the tools they need to hone their emotions so those kinds of threats  _ don’t  _ happen!”

A futile attempt to mostly convince herself, to convince him as she pressed. “Doing nothing and leaving those children behind in the conditions they were in, it would only create something monstrous out of them!” A memory tugged at her awareness, her own voice resounding viciously inside of her mind, echoing like a phantom of years long passed.

_ You are a monster!  _

The acceptance in his eyes, the weary expression belonging to Kylo Ren bleeding through it and into their current reality. A mask layered atop another mask. Her--on Ahch-To, so young and naive, hopeful still and full of unfounded arrogance. Him--on the Starship separated by parsecs but unnervingly close in every way. Even then.

They had both grown in completely different lifestyles and yet had taken opposite paths. There was a way that she could influence them, using herself and Ben as an example. She had pulled Ben to a light path, and she knew with enough effort, she could do the same for the children. 

And keep them there.

Ben had tried to convince her again and again. She shook her head, frayed and loose tendrils of hair brushing against her neck. “Please, Ben.” She begged for reprieve from his anger and dared another step closer to make up the distance he’d withdrawn from. The aura of his wrath permeated her own, spiking with recognition as if her very tainted blood understood the darkness that still stirred within Ben Solo--the darkness that she had been so adamant had been buried.

Whatever she offered him, whatever they were or tried to be, it wasn’t enough. The very Force seemed to quiver in their peripherals, attempting to contain the raw emotions festering between them. It demanded balance, always. “If  _ I  _ can overcome it--being who-who I am, they are deserving if being given an opportunity, not to be left behind where the dark side would surely consume them,” she heaved a breath as if  _ touching  _ on the rare subject of her lineage was exhausting enough already. Her lashes fluttered, gaze lowering to avoid his as she searched the space between them for answers.

Rey only wished for Leia’s hope, Luke’s guidance, or even Han’s ability to swindle a moment’s comfort. Instead, she was met with a resounding hollowness that carved out her chest and filled it with an ache that had become all too familiar. Anger and anxiety mingled in a miasma that threatened to choke her. 

He was going to leave, and she was going to let him and they would both be alone again.

“To  _ hone  _ their emotions?!” Ben spat. “Light and dark create a balance and you really think that teaching them pure light will keep them out of the temptation of the dark side? By simply manipulating their emotions?” 

Every muscle anticipated an old temptation begging for release. 

“It will not be manipulation, but I can guide them on the right path!” She reasoned. “I will help them just as I did for you.”

The grass that swayed at their feet whipped against their legs, a quiet splitting sound scarcely heard. “You’re so adamant to make the same mistakes that they all did! The reason that they all fell was because they weren’t taught to equally hone the other side. They dismissed the dark side!” It only urged him back further, taking her pleading with an indignant scoff of his own.

His fists clenched at his sides in a white knuckled grip, hardened gaze sweeping over her only to shake his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking what she believed to be tears away that threatened to come through. “You’re a damn fool, Rey. And clearly I’ve made a mistake in trusting you.”

One quick push through the Force shuffled her back, whipping weeds that blew the opposite direction of the wind with it. 

“What is  _ wrong  _ with you?” Rey’s lip curled back, looking into his eyes that were so dark in that moment, eyes that held not a single ounce of warmth that she had familiarized herself with the last few weeks. There was only raw hunger, an aching underneath his rigid form that begged him to lash out as he would have before, to destroy everything in sight in order to cope with his emotions, rid his body of some of his pent up energy that only added to his frustrations. 

His lips cocked back into a half-smile, no joy.  _ Nothing  _ but hurt. His eyelashes fluttered, turning his head up with an exhausted sigh. “That is,” he ground his teeth, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “That is funny coming from you.”

“I do not understand.”

“Do you honestly believe that after everything that’s happened, I would just leave you alone?” One hand perched on his hip, the other raking through his hair again, unruly with the aggressive breeze. It wasn’t doing hers any favors either. “Let you go do whatever idiotic plan that you’ve happened to come up with on the spot?”

“I don’t have to explain to you about why this would be beneficial. It would mean less lives lost to the Resistance, we would have the numbers to stand up against--” She caught herself, thinking back to the advice that Finn had given her when she was leaving the mouth of the overhang to find Ben.

_ Do not tell Ben about the New Order.  _ When prompted why, he only reminded her as to how he was, about how he would take it--not well was the assumption--how he might go back even if to pull Hux from power, delve back into the dark side, take back over… That and it would not help her convince him as to why her plan was a good idea, considering he would most certainly remark about how history would inevitably repeat itself. Again. And again. 

And she could deal with it. Ben didn’t have to be involved.

“It’s less Resistance lives, fine, but what about the children in the future? How about when one of them strays from your teachings and kills the rest of them because you taught them how to be  _ soft _ ? Are you going to be like Snoke and make a promise of a brighter future, or Luke and reassure them that there is always a balance and the scale never tips. That balancing a precariously uneven scale is unnecessary. What about Palpatine. Are you going to tell them that family lineage doesn’t matter and they can do things if they just put their mind to it?” It sounded more elementary when put in that way. “It’s a plan that’s doomed to  _ fail _ .”

“It’s  _ not _ .” The shrug that she offered only added to her meek defense, her head snapping to look at him with a glare, the beginning lines of a scowl etching itself into her features.

Ben ran a hand down his face, balancing all of his weight on one side. He was struggling to maintain his composure, a tense hush falling between them as he caught his breath. Taking on a barely recognizable posture, one that no longer bled strength or security, but  _ anger _ , a hard line formed in his mouth, and he’d moved to ruthless indictment instead.

His teeth snapped together as he yelled, startling her with his newfound proximity as he abruptly closed the space between them, pointing a finger directly at her, downright accusatory,  _ blaming _ . “Snoke, Luke, Palpatine--You are all of the bad things about  _ all  _ of these people!”

Their faces were only a few inches apart, Rey squeezing her eyes shut as he continued to rant. “I didn’t even want to come back to the resistance but you asked me to,” he threw a hand up, a frustrated huff heaving in his chest. “We left and I’ve been going through all of this  _ shit  _ to make sure that everything turned out okay--for  _ you _ , for  _ us _ \--and you’re leaving it behind because they  _ asked  _ you to?”

Ben had tried really hard, but she didn’t deem it as being  _ nothing  _ to her. Nor was she choosing to leave any of it behind and pretend it hadn’t happened. “I’m not anything like them.” She protested, the thread snapping taught between them, crackling with a fiery intensity as the weeds between them whipped harder, the water running so much louder and so much more profound. In the distance thunder rumbled as a creature cawed with a newfound uncertainty.

“Yes, you are! Because they all took steps that you are taking that inevitably turned people into obedient soldiers-- _ kids _ to die to save your Resistance friends! You’re following old teachings, not your own. Was there even a point to all of this? The Resistance turns up asking for your help and you drop everything?” His brows furrowed. “Is that what you want?” His hair frayed into a disheveled mess, briefly obscuring his eyes, his face a burning red, veins protruding. 

Rey threw her hands up. “I don’t know.” She answered helplessly, beginning to burn out from continuously trying to validate herself to him. Her eyes finally dropped from his.

“What do you  _ want _ ?”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“Except it is!” He inhaled sharply. “Forget about the Jedi, forget about the Resistance, forget about  _ me _ . What do you  _ want _ ?” He loomed above her, standing so impossibly tall and menacing in a way that offered comfort, but also didn’t.

She shook her head, grasping for an answer that he would accept through blind rage, but she found nothing. 

Ben scoffed. “You do whatever anyone asks you to do, and what happens when someone asks for something else? Are you going to abandon that too? When does it end?”

This wasn’t Ben, his anger getting the better of him, making him lash out at her. Albeit there being some truth in what he said, she knew that if he were thinking clearly, he would understand, or if he didn’t, at least offer some other solution. “I will come back for you in a few weeks, I promise you--”

“No, you’re not. They will say whatever they have to. I’m not going back to act as their prisoner so that they can feel superior.  _ Never _ again.”

Rey narrowed her eyes. “They told me that you were destined to be a carbon copy of Darth Vader, that there was no light left in you, that you were beyond redemption. I  _ defended  _ you.” She then pointed fingers at herself, a crease forming in her forehead as she leaned forward. “ _ I  _ saved you.”

“If you go this way, you’re going to end up on the same path.” The thread was demanding, lightning streaking across the sky somewhere in the distance with an oncoming storm. It seemed to intensify their rage, having to yell to be heard above the elements around them. 

The thread crackled, sparked with demanding insistence, the energy under both of their fingers growing with their heated argument. “You and I both know that you chose this. You wanted to come out here with me until you didn’t and now you’re  _ using  _ me--”

“I am  _ not  _ using you!” She snapped back.

The thread strung taught, vibrated. 

“You are and now you’re blaming me. You used to always tell me that I was wrong, and that I could be so much  _ better _ and yet you’re going back to follow the same example of all of those wrong choices!” Somberness leaked into his eyes, then suddenly hardened and trapped his morality inside through a reddening complexion.

“ _ You _ tried to destroy the galaxy.” Rey reminded him, unable to control the trembling of her own limbs, clenching her trembling fingers, her nails digging into her palms. “ _ You _ wanted to wipe out the Jedi, the Resistance. You have to give them time. It was not just them who was upset by the actions of you--Kylo Ren.”

“You shouldn’t be upset by what I did, you should be upset that I actually managed to see through all of the  _ bullshit _ .” Ben drew in a shuddering breath, speaking through pure desperation as he fought back against the tears blurring the edges of his vision. 

Once the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. “I wanted to do so much more and I didn’t. And I loved you and I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t want to lose myself to your side where you’re still living a fantasy.”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d almost imagine him crumpling beneath her with the force of a person vomiting on all fours. But she shoved aside the confession, ignored the sudden jerk of her heart lest she give in and change what was already set in stone. No, she wouldn’t abandon them. They would not live as she had.

“You saw through all of the  _ bullshit  _ because your parents gave their lives to get you out of  _ it _ .” She countered.

The thread twanged, Ben standing so incredibly still as if she had just punched him in the face. There was no going back now. She’d drawn first blood and she didn’t wait for him to reply, rather shouldered through. “I have to do this. If you’re not willing to follow me, then there is nothing that I can do. I wanted to be with you. I tried to get you to turn and I did, but I need to do this before I can move on. I won’t leave them to do this on their own.”

Ben shook his head dismissively, turning to avoid looking at her, one hand cupped over his mouth. “Every day that I wake up, I keep waiting for you to fall to the dark side. If I could guarantee that you would be okay, I would take it back for you. I’d let Kylo Ren in and damn the whole galaxy if I could, but I can’t.” He sniffed, his lips and his eyes raw and puffy. His voice gradually rose to a higher pitch through every bated breath and honest word.

“That isn’t going to happen.” She promised, and her heart did ache for him, but even as an apology bubbled at the back of her throat, begging for release, she fought it back down, shedding some unbidden tears of her own that she wiped on her sleeve. Strained and her voice shaking, she said, “We talked about this. I don’t feel the dark side like you do.”

“Tell that to your friends when you see them. Ask if any of them inhaled any dust from your last trip.” The statement came out with a better sense of calm, though hoarse from keeping the majority of his tears at bay and he hadn’t the breath to get the words out correctly, blinking furiously before he turned his back on her.

“Ben--”

“Leave.” He demanded, his lips shuddering as a tattered breath slipped through. “ _ Go _ .”

He was the one who shuffled away, snuffing every bit of remorse from his being and leaving her in the cold to stare at his back with not so much as a goodbye or a promise that they would see each other again. 

It was a tender moment, one that left a flitting anger in her heart and a tugging on their thread.

That was the first time that she’d ever felt it snap.


	28. Home Sweet Home (Rey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several of you are going to realize that this chapter is very familiar. Several others are going to have no idea what I am talking about. Well, note to self, I need to stop editing in the middle of the night because I accidentally missed a lot of editing that I had intended to fix. I am currently editing this in the middle of the night, so I guess the first bit will have to be disregarded. 
> 
> Anyway, I realized that I could have left it as was, but reading over it, and remembering everything that I had wanted to add or change, I was very unhappy with it. So, I went back and redid it. Now, the old chapter 28 is gone, I have removed it, and the new chapter 28 is currently this one. The basic concept is there, but more has been added or changed to the dialogue so that it sounds a little smoother, some spelling or grammar errors, punctuation, and a surplus of about 700+ words or around two pages were added. Suffice to say, I am relatively satisfied with it now. 
> 
> I am sorry for those of you who were expecting an update with a new chapter, but I was in the midst of typing chapter 29 and couldn't get myself to focus until I went back and fixed this one first. Anyway, chapter 29 should be out within the next few days and I think it will be switching over to Ben's POV since it's been since about chapter 24 since we've had this POV and I'm not going to lie, writing his are actually my favorite. XD 
> 
> Some of you may not care about the changes I had made or what I had added, and that's fine, but if there were any of you that were as bothered about it as I am, well the majority of it is fixed now and we can all celebrate together. So, officially look forward to chapter 29!

“I’ve already apologized.” Rey heard her before she  _ saw  _ her. Lying on her back in the cramped confines of the bunk room in the base of Ajan Kloss, her mind had resorted to running in useless circles for hours, repeating the same things, going over the same scenario in contemplation of what she would have done  _ differently.  _ What she could have said, how she could have faced the look of absolute outrage on Ben Solo’s face. The  _ hurt,  _ the  _ fear _ . It gave her the reassurance that she needed, but simultaneously knew already.

He was gone, and there was no scenario in which he would come back to her--no chance of finding him--and there would be no need to go find him when the dust settled. 

She’d reached through their thread for him numerous times already. He’d blocked her out, obscured his thoughts, every little bit of him that she had seen so clearly before was suddenly lost to a place she couldn’t reach. That wasn’t to say that she couldn’t still  _ feel  _ him, but that didn’t grant her any reassurance that he may still be alive.

Their Dyad transcended far beyond even that. 

She wondered how far across the galaxy he would run, if the First Order--New Order--would finally catch up to him.. Judging by their numbers, the fight stood about equal, and that was what she told herself to urge a smile and remind herself that she needn’t worry whereas a fight with him was concerned.

Rose’s interruption granted her some reprieve, casting a look to where her friend leaned by the open entryway, her shoulder pressed against the solid frame, hand tapping a gentle rhythm into the door frame and snaking into the pockets of her jumpsuit. “I know.” She chuckled with a small but awkward little smile, low and obscured underneath clearing her throat. “That’s not why I’m here. Everyone is unsettled after what you did--” 

“Which I said that I  _ apologized  _ for.” Rey added tersely, shoving a piece of bread into her mouth, her aggressive chewing droning out Rose’s footsteps traversing across the rusted interior floor.

“You  _ did _ ,” Rose agreed, gently ushering Rey’s legs over to lower herself onto the cot beside her. “We all heard it, but things are going to be a little tense until the initial shock dies down now that you’re back.” She offered lamely, but she was trying; Rey saw that, and with a droll stare flickering up to her face, she directed her attention around the noticeably empty bunk room. 

Every single cot was absent, loud chattering outside of the room reminding her that there were still fighters, and thankfully there had been no casualties which further helped plead her case when she came back to folded arms from the resistance.

“Is that why every single bunk is empty?”

“That’s a part of it.”

“Am I going to have to start sleeping on the roof?”

“Not yet.” Rose laughed, a genuine laugh ringing in her ears and ushering a smile from her too, not one as heartfelt, but the first one she had given since coming back. Not even a game of Dejarik and listening to Chewie threaten Poe who had been so obviously cheating had been enough to lift her spirits.

For the record, she had won in the end and claimed a few extra credits to her pocket. 

“You’re putting a target on your backs having me here,” Rey reminded her around a mouthful of bread. “They have to see that.”

“We already had a target on our backs in the first place. After they found you and Ben, the Resistance would be the next step to whatever plan Hux  _ thinks  _ he has. At least having you here, we have more of a chance, and with Finn that’s two Force users on our side.” She reasoned, gently nudging her leg. “And the children will be better off. The good outweighs the bad in this case.”

“Maybe,” Rey grasped her lower lip in between her teeth, turning her eyes up to the ceiling with its hanging wires and various tubes that all led to something in the base’s operation. Considering how long ago they had abandoned it, she was surprised most of its functions still  _ worked _ . 

“I’m trying to get you to smile.” She voiced her intentions at last, squaring her shoulders against the wall and nestling her arms across her stomach. “If you keep frowning like that, your face is going to get stuck.”

She hadn’t realized that her face had twisted back into a scowl until she relaxed, the tension in her eyebrows releasing, her clenched jaw stiff when she released. 

“Sorry,” her eyelids fluttered and she was sitting up, folding her legs against her chest to give Rey more space--something her friend seemed to appreciate as she scooted back on the cot. “I’m just--I’m worried about  _ Ben _ .”

“I know. You’re on your third helping of our rations and have shown no signs of slowing down since we got back.”

Now, Rose wasn’t  _ wrong.  _ A surplus of crumbs had made a home in her bed, never mind the empty packages left on a box on one side and the empty wrappers falling off its edge to the floor. It was a mess, one that she’d have to clean before the others settled down for the night--unless they chose to crowd the war room in order to avoid her. 

Something told her they wouldn’t pass up the chance to be a witness to her misery.

So what if she’d chosen food as a means of dealing with Ben’s absence? It had only been a few hours, but she’d already contemplated going back to the river planet in order to find him and explain herself yet again, maybe beg him to come back with her, or at least plead for his forgiveness and some sort of mutual understanding.

The only thing that had stopped her were a few helpings of fruit, bread, and packaging of leftover rations from what they had managed to grab from Crait. On Ajan Kloss, they had a bustling community, agriculture, hunting patrols and means of trading with other Resistance outposts…

They could spare a few things to satiate her emotional eating habits.

No, she couldn’t look for him. He wouldn’t want her to. The anger that had emanated from him had been suffocating. A culmination of when he had once been Kylo Ren, raw and untamed power but with two warring sides fighting to be in control. 

What that meant for him, she didn’t know, but the thought only urged another piece of bread into her mouth. “You didn’t see his face when he left.” She mumbled around her full mouth, looking over to see Rose scrunching up her face into a mild expression of disgust.

“No, but we all heard it. It didn’t sound good.”

“He’s just worried about me succumbing to the dark side, that I may be vulnerable to it since the war on Exogol.” Rey sighed.

“It’s not like you have a family lineage like Ben’s. That was a part of what pushed him I think?” Her voice was slightly high pitched at the last few words, shrugging her shoulders. “You don’t come from anything like that, and you have the Resistance as your home,” she reminded her. “We’ll keep you on the right track.”

Rey’s heart sunk, reminding herself that she had failed to tell them about her own family lineage, the truth of her being a Palpatine because of her own fear that she would be treated differently--that they may react in the same way they had as Ben and issue a death warrant and demand that she face due punishment. 

The Resistance passed around her with careful and calculated steps already, sending their wary gazes to whoever was nearby in a silent warning. 

Somehow that made her feel worse than if they had told her directly.

Rey may as well have been dead to the light and consider the possibility of opening up her mind to the dark side. One couldn’t exist without the other, as Ben had said, and having been partial to the light all this time, was this sudden anger a warning? An omen that promised her nightmares would become reality?

Was it all a feeling stemming from her argument with Ben? He couldn’t have been right, because what did that all mean for the Jedi Order in the past? The Sith? Two warring sides on equal parts of the same spectrum. Ben had been brought to the light and the dark side was a force attempting to yank him back into the legacy of Kylo Ren. That’s what it meant, and it was a path that she had to follow.

_ Had to.  _

“Yeah,” she breathed softly. Looking down at her hands clenched tightly in her lap, she wrapped them loosely around her legs, tugging them in closer. “I guess I just wish that it was under different circumstances.”

“Me too.” Rose’s lips pressed together into a thin line, pulling her knees to her chest as well and tucking her head on top. “I liked Ben. A lot more than Kylo Ren. Less angry, and maybe even kind of handsome--” 

“Eugh, stop--” Rey shoved at her legs which earned a cackle from her friend. 

“I’m just saying that I can see why you--”

“No,  _ no _ . I am  _ done  _ with this conversation.” Rey unfolded herself and slid off the edge of the cot, stretching languidly once she was at her feet. “I am going to go find Finn.”

“We have to talk about it eventually.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You might be a Jedi, but you’re a horrible liar.” 

“Well, our mind tricks don’t require us to be good liars.” She retorted.

“So you’re saying you  _ are  _ lying?” Rose quirked an eyebrow.

“Goodbye, Rose.” Rey called over her shoulder, already making for the entryway that would lead into the war room. 

* * *

The only supposed last Jedi was out wandering the galaxy somewhere in a blinding fury. He was shielding her from it, but she could feel the vibrations of his pain through their bond, and it was just enough to choke her up and threaten the tears to spill.

She forced them back. 

Ben was as dark as the deepest corners of space, traversing in a realm of unknown that she couldn’t follow, going and going with the hope of ending up  _ somewhere.  _ Powerful, dangerous and determined with an ability to love immeasurably. 

He was also frightening, a large figure that always seemed to have a shadow looming just behind him, standing over him his entire life. She’d seen it when he had stood in front of her and called her foolish, that rage that urged the Force to his aid and threatened a cataclysmic event if he didn’t walk away.

And as she reached out through their bond for him again, she was promptly shoved away. Rey had been  _ nothing _ , a scavenger from Jakku turned Jedi and serving everyone but herself. She’d finally found the person who thought of her as if she was someone, not a weapon or a means to the end of a long and arduous war, but an end worth fighting for. He’d saved her life on Exogol and that had meant something.

He’d finally expressed his deep-rooted feelings for her only to accidentally crush him because of a favor.

_ Good job, Rey. Really excellent. _

Rey cast her eyes over to Finn. He looked so relaxed in his posture while she sat balancing her weight on the balls of her feet, her heels pressed against her behind and her arms draped over her legs. 

“I’m not so sure about picking a fight with the New Order.” He admitted.

“You wouldn’t stand much of a chance.” She didn’t sugarcoat that, but she would be lying if she said that the clearing fit with the main computer and large open canvas of space didn’t instill a calm lull over her. The two suns were set high above the horizon, casting a golden hue over their seated forms. It was refreshing seeing the planet below the treetops with its bright filtering lights drifting through tall branches. It reminded her of the view back on the river planet, the water splitting through, oceans upon oceans of grassland and its rolling hills--except more closed. 

She’d have liked for Ben to see this, too.

“We’ve fought the First Order. I think this can be taken as a milder situation, at least without the influence of Kylo Ren--Ben.” Finn grimaced. 

“Hux is smart. He’s tactical, but I don’t mean just him. Bandits, wild animals, unruly villagers,  _ me _ . You have the Force, but your problem is that you're reckless. You don’t care when you hold your own life in your hands.” Someone had to care  _ for  _ him, and frankly there was no better time than the present to test out the extent of his abilities. 

Ideally, he would have his own saber to spar with. Considering he  _ didn’t,  _ she had to improvise. Unholstering her weapon, she slid it across the ground with a soft, metallic  _ thump _ . “Take it, hold it, and familiarize yourself with it.”

At her instruction, Finn retrieved it from the dirt. He ignited the blade, giving it one quick practice swing from where he crouched on the ground. “I’ve used a lightsaber before.”

“Yes, but you’re not fighting Kylo Ren, you’re fighting  _ me _ .”

Finn’s lips pressed together tightly, his eyes following her as she stood. He rose, but with a curious head tilt as if she was missing some larger point. “You don’t have your own weapon if I’m using yours?”

She had left the other to Ben. 

She shrugged. “I don’t need it.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. “A little cocky, but I believe you.” 

Rey flashed him a forced, almost sarcastic smile. “I don’t have much experience, but I have more than you and honestly that’s all I need.” She took a few steps toward him, using her hands to gradually move him into the correct posture, molding his shoulders back and kicking against the insides of his boots until he moved his legs. “The saber itself should be an extension of your hand and therefore easy to move, but the primary objective is using your saber and the Force at the same time.”

She’d learned a little late compared to most. What usually began with wooden training weapons was lost on her with the expectation to serve the Resistance. 

Unfortunately, Finn also couldn’t afford that luxury.

“I managed to use the Force on Hux’s ship. It was just for a brief second but… I-I felt it.” Finn stammered. His eyebrows flicked upward as he spoke and with a grimace, he tucked his other arm behind his head, stretching out.

“You also got shot several times. Listen to Rose and Poe next time and I’m sure it could be avoided.” With one harsh jerk of her wrist, the saber flew into her hand--causing Finn to stumble forward--deft fingers closing around the handle before flipping on her heel to point the blade at his throat. The sizzling crackled a mere few centimetres away.

He recoiled from it. 

“I told you that it’s not just the New Order that will hurt you. Most people don’t have the power of the Force or an army, so learn how to fight the smaller threats first and work your way up.” Whether he was avoiding it out of fear or just plain ignorance, she didn’t know. “And that starts with me. All I can hear is you deflecting.”

“I wouldn’t really call you a small threat.”

Like her, he was more of a do-er, thinking of his actions, thinking about what he needed to say, but when it came to fighting, he was never one to avoid it. At least, not for the aid of the Resistance. Finn was more privy to peace talks than immediately jumping into a fight--a good balance to Poe’s blunt force--but at times it caused him to chase it; seek it out. 

After their run-in with Kylo Ren at the foot of the cliff when the world was quite literally splitting apart, it had changed them both in more ways than one. Rey refused to let herself become subject to it again. 

Once more, she offered the saber to Finn by placing it on the ground in front of him, turning and gathering some rocks that were lying nearby among the brush. “Pick it up.” She ordered through gritted teeth. A knot of frustration was developing in her chest, a tightness that she took some deep breaths to work through, closing her eyes for a moment to  _ feel  _ it. 

In truth, she was at the end of her rope. “Defend yourself against this.” She said and chucked a rock in his direction. 

“But you don’t have a weapon-- _ ouch _ !” Finn’s words were cut off by a startled gasp and a mild hiss. It had shot into his right thigh, exactly where she had intended for it to go. He rubbed at the stinging spot--she hadn’t exactly been holding back--and raised his saber again with less restraint than before, taking several tentative steps back, an accusatory scowl swiped overtop irritation. “Are you  _ crazy _ ?” He braced the hilt in one hand, extending it outward.

Technically, she had always been and it was his fault for just now noticing. 

He leaped back as another stone pelted against the blade--feet tripping up on stray stones and soil--and then another, and  _ another _ . One pelted against his shoulder, and with a quick flick of two fingers, one of the rocks flew back and jabbed him in the side, his body jerking with the impending assault. 

“What exactly is this supposed to  _ teach  _ me?” 

“Well, it could teach you to  _ dodge _ first of all.” Frustration laced her with a feeling of intense rage that tried to drown her along with it, mold and envelope her into its unwelcome embrace that at first she hadn’t recognized. Not until she felt the heat creeping up her face, the slight trembling in her limbs that pulsated through her fingers. Was it her, or a feeling from Ben that was trembling through the thread and impacting her, too?

Rey threw another rock that struck him in the center of the chest. “You see a rock, you move out of the way so that it doesn’t hit you.” She clarified. “Or hit it with your saber. That’s what it’s  _ for _ .” She turned another stone over in her hand. “Come on! Dodge!”

His handling was getting better at least, but his own frustration was growing too as he ricocheted one back. Rey willed the Force to throw it back at his arm. “I have fought Porgs scarier than you.” She taunted, and watched as his form braced a little taller, a little wider.

The saber turned over in his hand, making a wide arc in order to deflect another. 

She wondered if this was similar to Ben's first training in the Jedi temple, if Luke had ever done similar means in order to teach him, gouge whether or not he could control his emotions without erupting into the monster that his family believed him to be. 

She herself was disappointed in the lack of training and guidance that Luke had given her,  _ frustrated.  _ She’d fought with anger so many times already--with good reason--and the life she’d spent on Jakku, while a fleeting memory, reminded her that while she had been searching for a sense of belonging before, she hadn’t quite found it yet--had yet to understand exactly who she was or meant to be now that Ben was somewhere else and only growing farther and farther away.

When Kylo Ren saved her in the throne room after he himself had disappointed and betrayed Snoke, if Rey had taken Kylo’s offer, they could have turned their backs on the past and forged their own future. 

Take charge of the First Order, save her friends from a possible fate, and forge a new path for the galaxy. She hadn’t by some sense of justice as the hero she was supposedly meant to be, hadn’t for the sake of the Resistance and the hope of pulling Ben to the light side. For what?

They were back to square one except with  _ children  _ hanging in the balance. 

One frustrated huff later and Rey had swiped the lightsaber from Finn’s hand, trying to shove out Ben’s accusations before he had left for what was likely the final time. With a harsh invisible shove, Finn was pushed onto his back with a quickly cut off grunt when he hit the ground.

Her lightsaber was aimed at his chest before he could get up. “We need to be  _ ready _ when Hux comes.” She snapped. “ _ You  _ need to be ready, because if you don’t,  _ we  _ lose and everything Leia and the others built is  _ lost _ .” 

“Okay,” Finn yielded, adding on more softly: “Alright.” He put his hands up, and while it was not an intense expression of fear, it was one of discomfort and uncertainty. “We’ll do this. I’m just going to need a bit of time to learn.”

It only further irritated her because of their simple  _ lack  _ of time, grinding her teeth until she thought they would crack. The tension, the rage she felt with her own inner struggle that enveloped her in this moment caused her fingers to twitch on the lightsabers hilt before reluctantly hitting the ignition switch. It flickered off, an intense crackling slowly quieting to a low hiss.

Rey backed away, turning her head with her suddenly growing shame,  _ guilt _ . “I need a break.” She mumbled, tossing the handle back into his lap. 

A tightness in her chest swelled once she turned her back and walked away. Finn’s unsteady gaze burned into her back and heightened her grief; her anger and  _ frustration _ . It was the same feeling as when she had watched Ben walk away, the thread between them strung taught but slowly loosening its grip with their increasing distance.

It didn’t bid them to each other anymore, didn’t demand that they close the distance.

Was this Ben? Was he separating from her, looking for some sort of end to their connection. 

Tomorrow when she looked, would he still be there? 

Rey lifted her gaze up to a clear blue sky,  _ mocking  _ her with its positive mood strongly contrasting with the sunken feeling that enveloped them down here. 

Without looking back, she took the long winding path away from the resistance base.


	29. The Bridge (Ben)

It was an ugly wound that would promise a scar. The welt had been stitched from his temple, along the smooth surface of his cheek, snaking down his rigid jawline and disappearing beneath the fabric of his cloak. At his side, a droid’s metal spindly appendages gouged the tolerance of his pain, humming a series of beeps and whistles as though in disbelief that his poking and prodding on charred flesh earned little reaction from him--other than a slight grimace that did not mar his deadpan expression for very long. 

Ben remained silent to the action, wearing the pain like a mask, hiding behind the expressiveness in his eyes that generally betrayed his emotions, even if the thin line that his lips so often held didn’t waver.

He had to sit a little taller in order to give the droid better access to the wound, his tall overbearing form uprooted in the privacy of his quarters surrounded by stark white panels and the galaxy stretching on outside a window behind his head. His subconscious delved deep into the very front of his mind, _thinking_ . _Planning_ for that next step. While he had only just returned from dealing with a small band of resistance fighters, what remained abruptly after had been something he had yet to determine. 

He gently probed and grasped for his thoughts, finding an endless depth of darkness that traversed down his family lineage like a thread, pulling him into some sort of dark place that he couldn’t crawl out of. Lost. Vader had called out to him, and _Snoke_. All consuming. Ferocious, even. 

Kylo Ren was met with the same result. _Nothing._ Nothing that he replaced with something stronger: a familiarity that had proven equally foreign to him, a tug that beckoned him, to traverse galaxies to find the girl that had left him to die in a snow-clad forest. He’d sought out that pull in the force ever since, vowing with every particle of his being that he would find her friends, the traitors, the murderers and the thieves and he would wipe them out before laying waste to the scavenger herself. 

If he could murder his own father, then surely the Resistance would prove an easier feat?

There was a hesitance in some part of him, albeit subtle, but it was there. 

They could not have the same amount of skills that he’d been forced to learn in childhood. Beaten for every misstep, berated for every missed strike, the perfection that was expected out of him at all times. Snoke’s teachings grew more perilous than the last, each lesson testing his limits and pushing further than that. 

Ironically, it was a misstep that had earned his father the point of a saber through the chest.

Ironic indeed.

A quick jab at his face proved to be more of an annoyance than anything, his brow creasing at the same jab in his concentration--just enough to waver his focus. He held steadfast, and continued his search with a wandering mind. 

With careful, practiced precision, the droid pushed a needle into his skin as it worked on the stitches, and while it hesitated at his wince, it did not stop in its demonstrations lest he protest its lack of progress. 

His fingers scratched against his gloved palm, betraying any sort of notion that he was completely relaxed. 

But that familiar tension held itself inside of him tightly, coiling around his tense muscles, restraining him from lashing out and delving into the dark part of him that was so _easy_ to succumb to. That normally calm demeanor that he so easily exhibited to strangers had carried him far in the galaxy’s politics, but how long would that last? 

As far as he remembered, he’d always been this way. Quiet, holding an internalized rage that was ready to unleash at any given moment. Sometimes it had. He’d send anything and everything in sight shattering into pieces beyond repair in one of his childish tantrums. 

Unlike his family, he had put his thoughts, his mannerisms, and his expressions behind a mask--now more literally, closing off any of his internal thoughts completely.

Kylo’s bottomless depth of anger and spite was lulled only by a surprising sense of regret. Too much of it even. 

As he pressed, the stench of salt water assaulted his senses, a tide drawing a breath and humming deeply, crawling along the sand and stretching itself thin. Then it withdrew, drawing away to breathe. He pressed deeper, feeling for the tether that kept their minds connected, a sharp prod threatening to sever his concentration. 

One hand shot up to brush off the droid, breathing in through his nose. He could feel her there, a trembling presence in the force that willed him forward. He obeyed its insistence, its _adamance_. 

When Kylo Ren opened his eyes again, he found Leia Organa, standing in the privacy quarters with an unmistakable somberness in her eyes that bled sorrow, her lips pressed into the shallowest form of a frown.

It burned him to his very core, a spark igniting at the pit of his stomach that urged him to stand. Every word was laced with malice, lips pressed into a tight line, swallowing thickly underneath trembling lips. “You’re here to mock me.” He guessed, signature curled fists at his sides threatening to lash out at her mirage. 

“No.” She moved slowly, but with purpose and grace. His vision swam briefly with memories; the shimmering waters from a bedroom balcony, the long sheer of curtains decorated in bright colors and blowing in a gentle breeze. His father’s booming laughter echoed in the pilot’s seat when the Falcon shot by his window. 

Kylo’s eyes misted over, blinking them away when two languid steps took her closer to him. He shot up, the scenery around him corroding into a mist. A bridge stretched endlessly on one side, the other coming to an abrupt stop a few feet behind him--only one exit, the exit that his mother stood in the way of with a wall of light behind her and behind him, an endless darkness offering to surrender himself to it if he willed such. 

When he looked up to the railing, Rey wasn’t there.

“You’re hurting. I’m here to help you.”

“You’re not real,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Get _out_ of my head.”

“You’re tipping back into the dark side, Ben.” Leia’s voice was gentle but powerful. The executive presence that came with it was alarmingly calm, a sincerity in her words that made him waver for the briefest moment. “Don’t go too far.”

She stood just inside the borders of his vision, a darkness approaching with fringed edges behind him. A step took him back, just as hers pressed forward.

“I never left.”

“No,” she admitted, voice laced with something mournful and apologetic. “You didn’t. You lived with the voices in your head for a long time.” Leia had known, Han had known, Luke had known, had watched him get swept away into the darkness where they wouldn’t follow. Nonetheless she looked straight into his darkness now, unflinching.

Another step forward.

Another step back.

Leia sighed. “You brought yourself out. You don’t belong to either side and that’s what’s so special about you.”

“You’re just a memory,” he declared with firm, disdainful conviction. “I didn’t have a choice! I _never_ had a choice!” Trembling in the foundation escalated, no railing on either side to grab onto but the bridge trembled underneath his feet, the foundation holding it together threatening to give way and throw him into the abyss under his feet following his father.

“I let you down. You were manipulated by Snoke and we weren’t there for you.” Every strain in every vowel pushed through her lips in order to keep her voice low and contained. The efforts were in vain, her voice resonating around this place, echoing off of walls that he couldn’t see. Yet she stood there, steadfast with her hand outstretched to him and begging him to come home. 

Kylo sneered at the display, his mother prying against his mind and demanding entry. He didn’t allow it, glowering underneath pinched brows. 

She shuffled forward, her gaze never wavering from her hardened determination. Her hand was hovering just in front of him, a trembling hesitance spreading through each finger. You need to stop fighting it. Come back to Ben where you _belong_. Please don’t throw yourself down this path again-” 

“ _Stop!_ ” He shouted through trembling lips, his shaking hand rising to meet hers. Not with any show of promise, but a threat. He willed the Force to his palm, but it did not come when he called to it. His surroundings offered nothing, his loss of control only apparent by the bridge bowing underneath his feet. “ _Go_!”

Leia’s eyes widened at the vitriol in his voice, spilling over much like the darkness that reached for him with long spectral appendages. Her hand fell, her gaped mouth closing into a tight-lipped frown. A frustrated breath puffed from her chest

“Try a little harder-” 

“I’m done trying for you.” 

A scowl etched fierce lines into her face. Blood rushed to her face, her fingers, her ears. “How well would you sleep knowing that everything you sacrificed to bring yourself back would be wasted? You’re failing _yourself_.” She grimaced. Another step.

Kylo couldn’t move back anymore, his feet scraping against the edge and threatening to take him. A contorted whisper beckoned him to take that final step, to tumble away into the darkness and become who he was meant to be in the beginning. If he could not find a place as Ben Solo, if Kylo Ren’s actions could not be forgiven, then he may as well damn himself to who he _could_ control.

“I don’t know how this ends for you, but I want there to be an after. _Please._ ” 

“An after,” he scoffed, testing the words on his tongue. Ducking his head, he gave it a swift shake, throwing his hands out in defeat, a shrug of his shoulders reminiscent of his father when he was growing particularly frustrated. “That’s impossible.”

“Ben, look at me.” She demanded. When he didn’t oblige, she repeated the words much harsher, an order befitting a general reprimanding a rough crowd. “I said look at me.”

Slowly, he did. 

“Don’t spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been. You’re not alone. You’ve never been alone. I love you. We all do and all I am asking for you to do is to _try._ ” 

“I’m trying.” He grumbled through grit teeth. “I know what I have to do, but I can’t.”

“Let me help you.” She whispered. Her hand came up to meet him again, strafing forward, puffing out her chest as though she could stand a chance against the broad-shouldered son who dwarfed her. She could.

Kylo--Ben was burning out, the longer he struggled to validate himself, to seek validation from others.

All of the frustration seeping from his limbs gave way to submission instead. A gloved palm came up once she was within arm’s reach, not standing too close to the darkness but close enough that she could still reach him a second time.

Leia became the witness to his corrosion of anger, shifting into uncertainty, then anxiety--a trace of what could have been fear. Still, anger grasped at his muscles tightly, a short breath expelled from his chest. His face surrendered from something neutral and soft. 

“Mom…”

A sadness held steady in her eyes. “I know.”

Light and dark hung precariously on both sides of the bridge, both pulling insistently. The darkness was approaching, tugging at him to urge him into the void, to take a step back and surrender to who he was meant to be. One step would do that, and the nightmare would be over.

Kylo’s--no, Ben’s eyes fluttered from a sudden gust of wind, feeling it rake over his skin and his hair. A harsh jerk pulled him back--Ben jerking forward to grasp for her hand, but the edges of his heels slipped from where they teetered precariously over the edge. Fingertips brushed against his own, a panicked gasp screaming out his name as Ben plummeted down into the abyss. 

A shuddering gasp escaped him, the darkness that fringed the edges of his vision closing in until it obscured his vision completely. 

Kylo Ren didn’t imagine Han Solo lifting him in the air as a child and pretending he was the Falcon. He didn’t imagine Leia Organa swooping him into her arms and making him laugh until his stomach hurt; until he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t imagine the rare instances when they were all home together and his parents would sit in his room with him because of the nightmares that warded him from sleep. 

_Ben_ didn’t imagine it, because he _remembered._ Remembered how he sensed the fear in others, recalled how his father looked at him when he thought that Ben himself wasn’t watching, how his uncle was always so cautious, how his mother was always so _quiet._ He’d understood that it was because of him, but what he hadn’t understood was that the voices luring him from his bed were taking him to a great darkness where they couldn’t reach him.

A very vivid memory overshadowed by Kylo Ren’s insistence that he had been betrayed, _hurt._ Could he go back now, he may very well have behaved the same way, had he been looking at the path his younger self was straying down. 

_Sh, Han! Not while he can hear you!_

Leia’s voice resounded so clearly, as though she were standing there, just over his shoulder and plummeting too, the memory as vivid as the day he sat in the other room and listened to his parents talk. About him. How _he_ was the monster treading down the inevitable, not knowing that he had been groomed by Snoke, told that he was _nothing_ , but meant for so much _more._

That day at the Jedi Temple was the first time Ben acknowledged that his parent’s fears were right. 

Ben Solo was the monster. 

Kylo Ren was the nightmare. 


	30. The Cauldron (Ben)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE YOU PROCEED FURTHER, PLEASE TAKE NOTES OF SOME OF THE CHANGES I HAVE ADDED TO THE OTHER CHAPTERS IN MY LONG EDITING PROCESS.
> 
> The reason that I edited the other chapters were because some of them were very short and I realized that I could add a lot of new content if I really tried so I went through and fixed around... 16 chapters and uploaded this one. Some of the changes are very miniscule, but there are others that have new sections or have fixed dialogue, sentence structure so that it runs smoother, etc. 
> 
> Anyway, now on to the fixes:
> 
> Chapters 1-5, 17, 20, 25 GRAMMAR/SPELLING/WORD ADJUSTMENTS (NO CHANGES TO STORY ELEMENTS)  
> Chapter 12 & 13 CHANGED REY AND BEN TALKING ABOUT NABOO RATHER THAN TATTOOINE (NO CHANGES TO STORY ELEMENTS)  
> Chapter 14 GRAMMAR/SPELLING/WORD ADJUSTMENTS AND TWEAKED THE ENDING (NO CHANGES TO STORY ELEMENTS BESIDES GETTING RID OF THE TEASE AND REPLACING IT WITH SOMETHING MORE BELIEVABLE AT THAT POINT IN THE PLOT)  
> Chapter 16 OVERHAUL, NOW WRITTEN IN REY'S POV, TITLE CHANGE TO "DO THE WORDS HAVE MEANING?"  
> Chapter 18 ADDED NEW SECTION IN BETWEEN REY WAKING UP AND MEETING BEN IN THE KITCHEN  
> Chapter 21 CHANGED ENDING  
> Chapter 23 CHANGED BEGINNING; MARKED FOR FURTHER EDITING LATER  
> Chapter 29 CHAPTER OVERHAUL, COMPLETELY CHANGED, USED SOME ELEMENTS TAKEN FROM CHAPTER 16 AFTER OVERHAUL  
> Chapter 30 NEW

When Ben came to, he squinted against a sudden, blinding flash. Hazy fingers of sunlight casted the shadows of gates across the ground--every speck of dust was illuminated, waltzing through the air without any set path or destination except to waltz. To  _ float _ . 

Stone bleachers lined the outside of the arena clustered with species that he both recognized and didn’t—hundreds of them erupting into a loud cacophony that drummed against his ear canal, muffling the sound of his own bated breaths. His heart thrummed with caution, anxiety rippling goosebumps across his arms despite the overwhelming heat. Every singular hair stood on end. 

The ceiling above his head stretched at least one hundred feet, a rocky dome decorated with stalactites looming above like teeth, threatening to clamp their jaws down and impale him. Sharp formations of rock jutted from the walls and mirroring the uneven terrain of the ground and ceiling in equal measure. 

What a way to go out that would be… 

He grimaced, his cuffed hands attached to a short chain that pressed him against a stalagmite jutting from the ground and rising much taller than Ben. One pull let him know that its structural integrity held up. 

He was in a cave.  _ Somewhere.  _

Initially, he’d reacted as he’d expected himself to, a renewed sense of urgency that made him jerk his head up, look around--slowly at first, taking in the outline of the rocky cavern, an ache ripping the length of his spine and stabbing against his ribs. He’d breathed in a hiss, a groan shuddering through his body as another ache split through his skull at any attempt to focus. 

Despite it being a fool’s attempt, he’d beckoned his saber. 

It didn’t come. 

After that, he’d slipped into a calm serenity that left him pushing himself to stand taller with a look on his face that was equally ill-suited, two parts of him fighting over whether or not to be concerned about Rey or the situation he’d most recently found himself in.

Apparently, slumped against the wall in between two stalactites, he’d decided on the former.

She had called him Kylo Ren.

Indirectly, but she had.

He didn’t know why that complicated things, but it did. He’d shot at her, swung a lightsaber at her, nearly killed her and her friends more times than he could count, and he’d given his heart to her in ways that he didn’t quite understand and probably never would. 

But she’d called him Kylo Ren and somehow that made things feel like they were suddenly traversing several galaxies  _ backwards.  _ He felt ambushed, like they had gone through this back and forth until he’d finally relaxed enough that she could throw this idea on him  _ knowing  _ that he would be too weak to push back. But that’s not what she did. She had been open and had wanted him to be too, with one look and pleading.

Infuriating or flattering, there was no in between for how that look affected him. Before, he’d always watched so intently, so earnestly even when she acted like a puppet on strings obeying a master’s every whim, erupting into a mumbling stupor when she made a choice on her own. It was one of the times when she'd been reduced to her most vulnerable in times when she knew she was a mess, willingly opening up everything about her for him to see.

And Ben would sigh, and he would smile and he would play the cruelties of the world off as a drizzle bouncing off of his head.

It was easy to be blinded by it and not see what lay underneath. Ben thought that he saw too much of her at times, and much like a star, Rey had been one such point in a constellation that faded back into the farthest reaches of the galaxy. He could look, but never would he be able to reach that far.

He’d remembered flying, steering the Falcon as far away from the planet as fast a speed as it could manage--which being infamous for doing the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs, it didn’t take long to jump to hyperspace and make for the outer rim. After that,  _ nothing _ . A malfunction in the engines or a jam in one of the controls had sent it careening, alarms blaring and flashing lights demanding correction to too many systems for one man to handle.

Now he was here.

And where  _ here  _ was had yet to be determined.

“If I die, you’re going to regret every single time you’ve told me no.”

“If you die, my wallet will cry out in relief.”

“Jerk.”

“Brat.”

“You’re a child.”

“I’m thirty four.”

““Exactly what I said. If you win, we’ll split the winnings eighty to twenty.” The voices of someone else--a Devaronian resounded with booming sincerity, stealing a glance sideways to find several other victims in a similar situation to him, but clearly in higher spirits than he was as if coming to terms with their fate a long time ago. 

“Eighty to twenty?” The other prisoner--A Twi’lek reiterated. “That’s it?” She scowled at the division, jerking her hands underneath her restraints and frowning at her inability to make a rude hand gesture in response. “I think I should get the eighty and you get the twenty.”

“We’ll figure out the division afterwards.” A vague hand gesture sliced the air above his head, a sort of fluttering hand wave. If Ben had to guess, it was an unspoken promise that they would in fact discuss it, but it would end up going their way anyhow. 

“We thought you’d given up the ghost. Kind of glad you didn’t, but the alternative is probably better.” The Devaronian turned their head to address Ben, the two of them contrasting starkly with the beiges and light browns that made up the arena. 

Ben turned only once, his head following his slow rotation, suddenly on the defensive. 

“You’ve been out for a while,” he went on, more insistent this time. He lounged back against the rocky stalactite, expression twisting into one of irritation. 

The Twi-lek was next to speak up, leaning forward to peer around her rougher companion. “You speak Jawa? Wookie?” She pressed.

“Wookie.” Ben answered flatly, finally turning, or at least the best his muscles could before they screamed out in sore protest. 

“We were being skeptically optimistic that you weren’t dead,” a frustrated sigh pushed through her parted lips. She cocked her head to look at him, eyeing with dull, glinting doubt. “Then again, it doesn’t matter one way or another for us if you are.” The air wrapped its jaws tight around her words, beckoning the cave into its uncanny stillness for a sizable amount of time to slip in between them. 

Ben had turned to acknowledge her words at first with stark nothingness, bracing to say that he wasn’t going to play savior for two people he didn’t know. His face surrendered into something neutral, the curve of his brows softening and urging him to look away.

“The quiet ones are usually the first.” The Devaronian muttered, “but you’re not so welcome to Rattatak or the Cauldron.”

“Warfare was pretty common here during the Clone Wars. They erected all of these gladiatorial pits putting slave soldiers and mercenaries against one another.” The Twi-lek huffed out a laugh.

“They used the credits to hire more soldiers and offworld weapons to continue their war. That was a long time ago. Most of the arenas are empty now, but a select few are still used for blood sports. We’re the unwilling participants this time around.” The Devaronian finished for her.

Ben listened, not showing the faintest curve of emotion through his explanation. He blinked once, maybe twice, but otherwise offered little in regards to his thoughts on it all. There wasn’t much to say except that he’d seen worse, had experienced worse, and some backwater planet that still followed old traditions would phase him considerably less than everything else he’d endured in the last few days.

Ben could ignore them for the fact that he was focused on the much smaller list of things that he would consider significant. At the top being that he needed to find a way out, the middle was a search and rescue for the Falcon and his lightsaber, and the third at the very bottom being two strangers that were prodding him for a response that he didn’t want to offer.

He leaned his head forward, looking up to the ceiling as if that would somehow massage his nerves back into a docile state. If the ceiling didn’t have sharp edges threatening to come down, it probably could have. 

Lidded eyes moved to look at Ben, flicking up and down in an attempt to get some kind of reading off of him. 

Ben’s stare grew more harsh, none too merciful in the time it took for either of them to address his expression. “Yeah, thanks.”

“The name’s Crokh.” The Devaronian introduced himself. “This is my sister, Nih’Hazo.”

“Sister?” Ben echoed.

“We were adopted.” Nih’Hazo clarified. “You got a name or do you always play the strong silent type when you’re about to die?”

“Ben,” he introduced himself. “Just Ben.”

“Well, at least there’s a lot to look at in here. You almost forget to enjoy the scenery looking at the world on the free side.” Crokh snickered. “Rocks, spiky rocks, a red stain on the wall over there.” He pointed with a restrained hand. “Lucky that’s not you.”

“Friend of yours?” 

“He’s dead. Deader than dead, actually. His combatant name was Red, as in Red Terror. Spices things up around here,” she pursed her lip with a self-satisfied shrug. “It's easier to pronounce but his actual name was Errik. We generally do the small fights but they bring a new guy in and suddenly we’re put on the chopping block.”

“You can be new Errik,” Crokh decide, the grin splitting across his cheeks only adding to his rough and menacing appearance. 

A tentative laugh staggered between his sister’s lips. “You’ll probably last just as long.”

There was a pause, a gaped fumbling of uncertainty for words that wouldn’t come. He settled with: “I’m honored.” He mumbled distractedly, dragging one last sweeping stare over them before turning his divided attention to the roaring crowds instead. They were waiting, prepping for  _ something _ . 

There was still a high price on Force user’s heads for common criminals and the political side of things both. The previous leader of the First Order was probably as big a reward as they could collect. He didn’t count on that being any reason to spare him--if they even knew. 

Ben had the good fortune of everyone believing he was dead. Kylo Ren and Ben Solo both. 

Best to keep it that way. 

“How did you end up here?” Nih’Hazo asked.

“You lose a bet?” Crokh assumed. When Ben didn’t answer--giving him a befuddled look instead, he scoffed. “Like gambling? You in debt to the Hutts? Got a bounty on your head?”

“The only bets I make are against my life.” His head swiveled back to the stands, one roofed section housing a peculiar figure that looked on at them in some sort of giddy excitement. He listened to the idle chatter, trying to make sense of the garbled language. He could scarcely make out a few words, none that would be beneficial to any of them, rather sounded vaguely threatening. And final as though they expect them to die. He shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Hey, I like this kid.” Nih’Hazo laughed. “He has more of a sense of humor than Errik.”

Ben drowned them out, his eyes flicking restlessly as the ringleader spoke with a jovial demeanor, flourishing hand waves and languid stretches that mocked the fact that they were in restraints now. It would have been easy to break the chains, throw him over the balcony with a flick of his fingers and send the roof caving in on the rest. 

“You got a plan?” Nih’Hazo spoke through his thoughts. “I hope you have a plan.”

He didn’t. His fingers twitched underneath a locked jaw. Nothing except to go through with whatever was to come and hope for the best. “Not yet.”

A puff of air expelled from her chest. “Oh. I’ll start counting my blessings now while I’m ahead.”

“I think he’s earned a bit of trust.” Crokh intervened. 

“Definitely not,” a dry smile was offered, but her brows were still pinched, still unsure,  _ still  _ skeptical. “But I’ve been surprised before.”

On all sides of the arena, the gates rose up, the cacophony of the crowd intensifying with every single inch that the gates opened until it was deafening in his ears.

His fingers itched, a begging incessant sensation that was excited about the idea, the more rational part of him worried about the same thing for the exact same reason. The fact that it was his life on the line was the reason that he entertained the idea. His blood ran cold, then it heated, then it boiled.

The line in his jaw tensed, his already perturbed demeanor turned downright hostile. 

An irrational part of his mind sang with possibilities. 

“Good luck you guys. Try not to die.” Nih’Hazo mused cheerfully as the first of the combatants spilled from the gates. 

Ben thought of asking if they would be untied, but he didn’t count on that answer being a simple  _ yes _ . Until they did, a faint click following the trio spilling onto the jagged rocks just below their feet. 

Masked faces spilled from every corner, charging with a murderous gleam in their eyes, desperate to win if a pointless victory would give them freedom, or money. Ben’s fingers scratched against his palm, willing himself to not succumb to the Force to solve every problem--it wasn’t the easier alternative, but he wasn’t looking to get traded around by the mobs or the courts if he could help it. If someone with a vendetta didn’t try to kill him first. 

_ Someone  _ had a vendetta, the way that two figures shoved Ben back into a rocky pillar, one of them diving down to his arms and the other throwing a hard-toed boot into his calf and knocking it sideways. Ben had buckled, a knee shoved against his hip to keep him down. 

A pair of double blades speared toward his abdomen. Ben threw himself to the side, successfully squirming out of their grip until his side landed against the rocky terrain, jagged pieces slicing the palms of his hands. He grimaced, nose scrunching, quickly rolling over onto his back and slamming the heel of his boot into one of their stomachs. He yanked the blade from their grip, the edge of it slicing into their armor before he turned it over and rammed it through. 

They fell into a heap, the other starting for him. Nearby, a blaster skid across the ground from a fallen combatant. Ben held a hand out, bidding the force to bring it to his hand as the other loomed over him, a towering figure that stumbled over the first victim and held their blade over their head. 

Ben aimed the blaster up in a steady hand, his finger itching on the trigger. 

The back of his mind sang a gentle tune. 

A few empty clicks sounded from it. 

It was jammed.

Ben threw the broken device at their head, a harsh judge through the Force shuffling them back, wrenching the blade from the broken body and giving his second assailant the same treatment. Scrambling to his feet, he took note of the battlefield, most of his attackers hidden around large formations of rock, stalagmites and dust being kicked into the air along with the chaos.

He scooped the blaster into his hand as another assailant rounded the corner. The grip of it slammed into their nose, a burst of blood streaking across the rocky crags. A knife swung blindly, Ben rearing back to avoid it. It was yanked from the palm of his hand, flipping around and plunging directly into their kneecap. A loud scream echoed, an ear-splitting cry that only eased his mind, like music to his ears, a soft humble tune that calmed him through the adrenaline, a roar of blood and rage in his ears that yanked all rational thought from his mind.

He didn’t  _ have  _ to kill them.

But he could hurt them. Really,  _ really _ bad. 

Tightened knuckles sailed into the bridge of their nose, a fresh spurt of blood coating bruised knuckles. 

It didn’t take him long, wrenching what looked to be a baton from their hands and slamming it into their thigh, one rib, then the other. Another against the back of his knee hard enough for him to buckle. They held up a hand in surrender, one hand gripping the bloody knife with a fresh spurt of blood spurting from the wound. 

Ben flipped the baton around, throwing it with as much force as he could muster into their stomach. Ben looked down on him, every movement not met with the same cunning calculation that made him who he was, rather his actions were based on nothing but pure hostility, fighting with the pure intention that they would suffer, every muscle relaxed with an absence of control. He drove the heel of his shoes into the knife’s grip, pushing it in farther. 

He didn’t feel bad at all.

Another scream. No sympathy from Ben, just an absent expression devoid of any mercy. He bolted around one of the pillars. 

A blaster toggled with the roll of a wrist, a shot that split through the air in a crackling heat just passing his left shoulder. Ben whipped around, an ugly and sick smile facing him with malice. “There’s a large bounty on you.” They mused, waving the blaster in their hand. “It’s a lot of credits.”

“Not if you can’t spend it.” He retorted with a scowl. 

They rounded on each other within a few seconds, a blur of kicks, punches, rolls, and close-quarter combat techniques all intertwined into one unsynchronized dance. Neither knew the moves of the other, but two partners fought with entirely different reasons that assured that only one would come out the victor. Ben’s need for survival overpowered the greed of a bounty, a quick shove through the Force giving him the upperhand of what he’d need. 

This person  _ knew  _ him, and that was reasoning enough that they couldn’t leave.

They fell against the sharp stones with a fresh spurt of blood, yanking what little breath they had from them only to scramble forward and attempt to run.

Ben reached down to grab his blaster from the ground, turning it over in his hand. In one swift movement it careened, planting itself into the back of the coward’s skull and sending them stumbling headfirst into sharp stones. 

A tense hush fell over the coliseum--the rest of the chaos drowned out, any form of cohesive thought and begging sound like static in Ben’s ears. Below him, rolling over, their panicked gasps heaving out of his throat one at a time, they looked up wide-eyed and  _ terrified.  _ Accepting death, but not wanting it.

The soldier grasped for the ground underneath them as he knelt down at their side. Ben gave him no reprieve, pinning him to all of the sharp rocky spikes and bloody grime that would exist in such a place. 

He didn’t take in a shuddering breath to gain any semblance of calm this time. His hands tightened around the soldier’s throat, every single part of him writhing in excitement.

“ _ Don’t _ ,” they choked, scratching at the hands that only tightened with his incessant begging. He’d closed his eyes to breathe without wavering his focus, a forceful tug forcing a tighter grip on their throat…

Then he stopped. Looking down, he finally saw. Past the white noise and static, he’d arched over them, murder in his dark eyes, his arms stretched taut and knuckles white from the viciousness from his grip. 

The only repercussion would be guilt, maybe. Worse repercussions in the end. All at once, his death grip released, white knuckled hands peeling away from their throat with careful caution as if not realizing he’d been doing it in the first place. He blinked once, then twice and backed off. 

They rolled over in a fit of coughing, sweat beading their forehead, eyes wide and reeking of panic. A pleading individual ignorant of their peril without his own interference.

Adrenaline pumped through his heart, the trembling fury wracking against every limb only disappointed that he hadn’t gone further, that them practically pissing themselves wasn’t punishment enough. Fingers curled into his long sleeves and gave his trembling hands shelter to tightly curled fists, heartbeat pounding loudly and out of rhythm. 

He lost that predatory darkness that made him so renown in the First Order, that made things like this so easy. The internalized rage that came and went as needed, a ruthlessness that was conditional but also necessary. One that always seemed to return with a vengeance.

Time jotted back into a steady crawl. 

His shoes scraped against the ground as he stood, using one of the pillars adjacent to ease himself up. 

Around him, the cave trembled, clouds of dust and dirt spilling from the ceiling. The stalactites shuddered underneath the strain, the points breaking off and sailing down to where all the fighting resonated in bloody carnage. Ben threw out his palm, several hundred sharp points freezing in midair, slowly rotating at several dozen hostile targets. 

In unison, they dove downward at a speed that would rival the Falcon. Harsh cries and battle cries suddenly silenced, a gasping crowd running in pure panic when the cave began to come down. Debris split the coliseum benches in two, a loud muffled sound from the ringleader warning everyone not to panic before a jagged piece of rock pierced through the observer's box. 

Ben watched the chaos unfold with a straight-laced expression. Conflict pulled taut at the corners of his eyes, the eyes that’d become black holes, empty and remorseless.

A hand gripped his arm, his head snapping sideways. It was Nih’Hazo, cocking her head to put herself inside of his peripherals. She tugged him toward one of the many open exits. 

“Are you done admiring the view? Come on, let’s go.”


	31. Left Behind (Ben)

“Are you done admiring the view? Come on, let’s  _ go _ !” Nih’Hazo reached to snag his sleeve in between two fingers. She forced a fuming tug that didn’t quite move him before her other hand reached around to grasp his bicep. She gave him a little shake. Her eyes held warranted desperation, an urgency that left little room for the hesitation that he was exhibiting now. Ben couldn’t will his legs to obey him, his eyes sweeping above her head to where the ceiling caved in a shower of sparks and flames from falling torches. “You walk with your feet by the way!”

His dejected stare moved from the ceiling, a collapsing mess of rock and steel foundation. It kicked up a thick, dusty fog; the exits a blurry outline on the sides of the arena that caved in and trapped them inside a place that had so quickly become a tomb--more of a tomb. Ben mentally checked off a box that entertained the fact that he could become another statistic.

But then it really all would have been for nothing, and like his father and his mother and his uncle, he did not so much fear death, but resented that  _ this  _ would be the way that he would go. It would be with a crash and a bang and a flurry of sparks, just not in the way he wanted. 

Ben wasn’t about to die like this. This was  _ not  _ the way that he wanted to be remembered. 

Dust coated his hair, giving his drenched hair a sickly brown grime that plastered to the sides of his face. The pure rush of adrenaline causes beads of sweat to trickle down his back, free flowing like hard rain across a window, beading his forehead and dripping down his chin. It didn’t occur to him until Nih’Hazo gripped at the fabric of his shirt how soaked it had become. 

The flames from the fallen torches igniting by catching some of the bodies didn’t help the suffocating atmosphere. He shook himself out of his momentary trance, turning his head in the opposite direction. His lightsaber was still in the winding tunnels, the Falcon somewhere on this forsaken planet and he hadn’t the slightest idea of either. Leaving them was an option that he couldn’t entertain. “I can’t.”

“I’m sorry, repeat that? You  _ can’t _ ?” Nih’Hazo listened with a wrinkle in her brow, studying him more closely. Unconvinced by his answer, the look on her face eased. She leaned back to look up at him, relaxing her grip to mold her fingers around her hips instead. “I get that it’s your first day here and you might want to enjoy some sightseeing, but there isn’t going to be much left to see in a few minutes, including us.”

“I have to grab my stuff.”

She didn’t have it. Her eyes squeezed shut, holding up her hands, pointed teeth glinting in the faint light. Somehow, even on her, it still looked vaguely threatening. “ _ Whatever  _ it is,” she gestured wildly to their surroundings, and when she finished, she did another round, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief that it was even an argument. She sounded exasperated. “ _ It  _ is not more important than  _ this _ , right now.” A finger jabbed into his chest, then again. “Get a new one. We’ll help you, but if you get me and my brother killed, I will personally crawl back from whatever hell I fall into and kill you. I’m not dying because you want to get your tighty-whities, okay?”

Unfortunately the Twi-lek was right--about some things. His belongings were buried under too much rubble to sift through, crushed beyond all recognition. He could find the remnants maybe, but not enough to fully piece it back together. One of the last connections that he had to the Skywalker bloodline was gone, proof that Ben Solo was more alienated from his family than he could ever have been--if that were possible. 

The Resistance, the lightsaber, the Falcon--his mother, his uncle, and his father, the bridge, the Jedi temple, and the cliff. He supposed that he had to say an official goodbye to them eventually on the road to his redemption. As long a road as it was and would continue to be. “Okay.”

Nih’Hazo grinned, whipping around. “Crokh! What are you  _ doing _ ?”

The Devaronian’s foot planted on the chest of one of the numerous victims of the carnage, wrenching a bloody spear from the center of their chest and holding it high enough above his head for them to see. They still had to squint to see through the dust, but he grinned a crooked and still threatening grin, waving it through the air with relative ease despite its unequal distribution of weight. “Look at this! It’s still in new condition!”

“It’s bloody!” She gaped.

“We’re going to need it!” He argued back.

“Throw it away!”

At first, he looked as though he would protest. All it took was a glare, a cross of the Twi’lek’s arms before he yielded. A grumbled complaint followed, the spear tumbling to the ground with a resounding clang. He’d been standing just a few short inches of a stalactite piercing the ground, exploding into a shower of pebbles that pelted against his thick skin. The reprimand by his sister seemed to null whatever pain he may have felt, showing no outside expression--Ben considered because he always looked as though he were scowling anyway.

“Good. We’re all in agreement then?” Nih’Hazo looked between the two of them, clapping her hands together in her victory before jerking her head towards one of the few exits that hadn’t been blocked. Not yet.

Ben’s legs pumped with all of the strength that he could muster, traversing the long winding corridors of the cavern while it collapsed. The ground moved underneath their feet, his surroundings loud claps of thunder with its decaying state, the ceiling pelting down over their heads in large chunks at his feet. It knocked him off balance a few times, dancing to the sides and leaping over cracks that split through the ground in an effort to avoid them.

The two behind him fared much better in their experience with the terrain, sprinting right at his heels with the same urgency. Subtle flicks through the force kept the majority of spear-like rubble away, just enough that they wouldn’t notice, but the dimming light of the cavern was an ally in this case. 

Everything shifted, a rumbling deep in the stomach of the earth as if it were a wave on the foundation that had stood for decades--centuries even--crumbling into itself, trapping occupants to a grisly and crushing death. In adjacent tunnels, he could hear the loud and informative gasps with a sudden tremor, the yelling, and cries suddenly cut off. Ben wavered while he listened, only to be ushered from behind because of his slowing pace. 

_ He  _ did this.

But he couldn't stop, unless he wanted to fall victim to the same fate. So, his knees propelled him into a full on sprint, his fists bunched at his sides through various winding hallways and pleading for some kind of exit. In his efforts he bumped into walls, piercing his hands on the darkness’ jagged edges. A dull throb took its place where he’d peeled them off, continuing on until the cramped corridors opened up to a wider cave. It didn’t remind him so much of Exogol, but he maneuvered through it with the same kind of urgency, rocks and dirt being carelessly kicked in the way, a rumbling outside that assured him that it was more than just the Cauldron collapsing.

Adrenaline crawled through him, clawing and demanding that it be let out, pumping and beating. It worked on his mind, elevating his more primal fears and decreasing his logic and self-control and igniting it at its own pleasure.

He met the fear with the same resistance, but his eyes were throbbing, the ringing screams vibrating in his ears, and the thumping of his heart ramming against his chest and threatening to leap out. Oxygen flowed in and out of his lungs, his nails digging into his hands tighter with his rapid breathing.

Somehow, it also left him feeling strangely calm, an acceptance for whatever scenario would come.

Ben turned a sharp corner to the right. A jagged piece of rock barred the outside, running parallel along the exit. He ran down the length of it as fast as his exhaustion would allow, weaving around broken stalagmites and rubble, catching his side on a jagged edge of rock, deterring him from the path momentarily but remaining steadfast in his focus.

When he came upon the exit, their one chance at freedom, the rocks came barreling down. They tumbled against the newly formed wall, a grunt leaving each of them as their weight rammed into one another. To their left, the torches snuffed out with the sudden lack of oxygen and submerged them in darkness. 

They hadn’t made it. 

“Dammit!” He heard Crokh’s voice through the darkness, wrenching around them in a threatening hold, assuring them that it would eventually close in and finish what Ben had started. It didn’t  _ press  _ in, it crawled on his skin, closer.  _ Invisible _ . Every touch was like a spindly appendage from a medical droid, grabbing and pulling and tugging, molding him into something new, something to fit the new environment he’d found himself in.

It robbed him of any sense of cohesive thought, instilling him with a paralyzing fear that brought him back to his days on the Jedi temple when he’d sent the roof collapsing on his and his uncle’s heads, how he had climbed out of the rubble then, coughing and hacking before emerging as someone else. 

The darkness had embraced him in his dream, brought him further back on the even scale that he barely balanced on. That scale had been in the shape of a bridge; he’d felt it again: the pull to the dark side. He’d fallen, it’d pulled him in, and the bridge had tipped to the side that it believed he belonged on. Fate had decided that for him, and despite his efforts, it would amount to nothing.

Ben’s muscles cramped, tired and aching and begging for rest. He slid down the rocky barrier until he came to sit on the ground, pebbles grinding against his back and pecking the ground with the forced movement. The voices of his companions echoing through the dark were muted, a loud static that he couldn’t make cohesive sense of in the moment. His legs stretched out, tucking his aching palms in his lap.

What did he think he was  _ doing _ ? What would actually come after this?

Naboo? That was a laugh. The Resistance? He would never look at it the same again. The Jedi Temple? Never would he condone their practices, not since seeing the similarities between it and the First Order. 

Ben didn’t have a place in the galaxy. Never had. 

Above his head, it slowly hummed back into focus, the sound of a pounding against the rocks in an effort to get free. They were tightly packed. No way to push through, no way to dig through, and yanking them back would take too long before the cave collapsed. The Cauldron’s descent had slowed to a dull rumble, bits and pieces still falling apart with the collapsing foundation. Pieces knocked against the ceiling, dirt drifting off the structure with warning that any kind of Force would send it caving in.

They didn’t have a lot of time.

“We’re dead!” Crokh bellowed, his voice booming with a loud and continuous echo. Somewhere off to his right, he heard a few rocks tumbling across the ground with the trio’s declared defeat. 

“Well, we’re together. For better or worse.” Nih’Hazo resounded from somewhere else, not anywhere Ben could discern at a glance.

“It’s definitely worse. It couldn’t get much worse.” 

“I knew that since the day I met you that it would be.” The sound of boots scraping on the ground signaled that she had sat down too, the fabric of her clothing scraping against the wall as she nestled into it. “All we can do is sit, and wait and make conversation with the dead.”

“When did you become the wise one?”

“Since I stopped listening to you.”

The next few minutes consisted of banter, accusations, conversations about how Nih’Hazo had brought a Tooka home covered in scratches and bite marks because it was feral but she didn’t want it to be out in the cold. How Crokh had wrecked their parent’s ship and ultimately blamed it on his sister, how they’d both gotten in trouble. Simple things. Family things. A common middle ground to throw apologies between each other before they met their fate, as if that would somehow bring them peace after death. 

_ Will you help me? _

_ Yes. Anything.  _

It was a memory blurred by Kylo Ren’s insistence to shut it out. It’d broken his spirit down to the bone, every attempt to shut it out brought his father’s face into clear view, how despite opening himself to him and practically holding his heart in his hand, he’d plunged the saber through and tossed him away as though he were nothing. An obstacle. A further descent into his mission to become something more than his grandfather ever could have hoped to be.

_ Thank you _ . 

A part of him wished that despite everything, they could be here to share in a similar experience. Every moment flying through the skies on the Falcon, and their travels around various planets for his mother’s political and Resistance business. Every fight, every apology, every moment spent when they were just as normal a family as the next. Before Snoke had crawled his way inside of Ben’s head and split them apart. Before he had let him. 

Ben couldn’t make up an excuse forever, he guessed. At some point, he would have to take responsibility. 

Like now.

“Ben?”

He looked up, even if he would be unable to see them. Nih’Hazo’s voice broke through the dark, her voice resonating with a genuine curiosity. “Anything you need to get off your chest? Guilty secrets?” Her tone suggested a teasing smile playing at her lips.

“If you wanted to waste a few hours.”

“Got any that you could tell in a few minutes?” Crokh grumbled.

He snorted, fumbling with his fingers in his lap. His head leaned back against the blunt edge of a rock, breathing out a sigh. “Just that I was just starting a new chapter in my life and leaving the rest behind.”

“You picked a bad time to do that.” Nih’Hazo snickered. “If you waited a couple days, you probably could have skipped out on the tournament. They usually only hold fights a couple times a week.” 

“Must’ve been my lucky day.”

“Lucky for us. I saw you fight.” She mused. “We probably wouldn’t have gotten out of that mess without you. Too bad it’s short lived. Think even _ I _ could have learned a little something.”

“More than a little.” Crokh rumbled. 

A hiss, a rock clattered across the ground from a missed shot. 

“You missed.”

“The only thing I’m going to regret before dying is  _ not  _ hitting you.” She snapped.

In reality, they all should have given up what they were holding onto before they had any regrets. preparing for whatever came after death. He supposed there was something poetic about it, cleansing one’s soul of everything that they held onto for the majority of their lives in the hopes that they would somehow eventually atone. 

Something to do with the metaphor of facing your past demons and asking the often spoken question of what you would do if you could go back and change every mistake that you’d ever made, or that life was short, and while the future didn’t come with a guarantee, if you wanted something in life, you had to jump for it--sometimes quite literally. 

_ I failed you. _

_ We failed you.  _

Ben would have changed a lot, had he been given the chance. Nobody failed him.

_ You’re failing yourself.  _

Leia had been right, and he was doing the _same_ now by accepting the hand that he’d been dealt with nothing more than a grain of salt.

His brows creased.

_ One act of kindness will not atone for years worth of damage. Several million lives over just one. _

Maybe not, but it would be a place to start.

It wasn’t quite the hot dark of embers anymore trying to drag him in with his nails scratching the ground, but a soft and hopeful dark. A dark that comes before a sunrise or helps orange and gold stretch across the sky with the arrival of morning, a flower blooming to life in a new season or a dark that encourages you to fall asleep as you close your eyes without a nightmare. A solar eclipse or a silence of serenity--how brief those always were.

Boots scraped against the ground, his hand groping blindly for the wall behind him to help him stand. His legs nearly buckled, begging to sit back down, his arms fumbling against the stones, his eyes willing to close themselves to the darkness of the cave and let go,  _ rest _ . 

_ Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you are meant to be. _

There, in the collapsing caves of the Cauldron, Ben made his decision, and it would put him on the run.


	32. Apology (Rey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So, I know it's been a while since the last update (Which I apologize tremendously for) but my laptop fried, and I haven't been able to get a new one until recently. I was on my way to updating the new chapter back in, I believe it was October and the darned thing shut off and wouldn't turn back on. I did take it to a shop, but they said that buying a new one was cheaper, so I just bided my time until I could afford a new one, but I can say that this one works SO much better! (: I was unsure how to update you guys on exactly what was going on seeing as you don't get notifications for updates to old chapters, and I didn't want to put anyone's hope up with a new chapter. But I'm back with a shorter chapter purely so that I could finally get an update out so hopefully it's smooth going from here!

Rey looked into the eyes of innocent youth, the future of the Jedi standing in what served as an adopted training room thanks to Poe. It gave her privacy from the stern glares of the rest of the Resistance who had yet to forgive her. That was fine. Their acceptance wasn’t what she was looking for, and the part of her that wanted to seek out their forgiveness stepped into Ben Solo’s shoes and embraced it as punishment for leaving him in the first place. 

She would need to train in military history, diplomacy, science, investigation,  _ medical  _ science… Resistance toward mind probes and interrogations--something that she’d practiced since first running into Kylo Ren--and to hone her own abilities toward the light side. Looking around at the sudden slew of new trainees, Rey surmised that she was way in over her head. 

Way,  _ way  _ in.

One not fully-fledged Jedi attempting to train six force sensitive children and Finn without Ben who had training by Luke Skywalker--less limited than hers had been at the very least. She wished that she would have at least asked him where to start before she came back--it wasn’t like she had textbooks to refer to. “Good. All of you.” It wouldn’t be as simple as holding out her hand and feeling the Force flow through to her fingers. An object was the first step. “Let the Force flow through you. A stone in the air feels the same as a stone on the ground.” She instructed. “Let it show you.”

A couple of them straggled behind, their stones wavering the tiniest amount, and as much as Rey wanted them to  _ learn  _ so that she could consider her work done and embark on a long-winded journey to find Ben Solo, such feats were proving to take time. Much longer she feared than what she had promised. Regardless, the hope of finding him now could all have been a pointless attempt at picking something to hold onto. He was still blocking her out, closing himself off as though he were in a place where their bond wouldn’t reach.

The space between them was void of  _ feeling _ ; not a single call or interruption would give her the opportunity that she so desperately yearned for to finally talk. She’d rehearsed apologies and reassurances and  _ promises _ , but each fell hollow and empty in the abyss that stretched further between them with the passing days. She still owed one to Finn. Her leisurely stroll through the jungles of Ajan Kloss had been the first step. She’d found a stone; bright, yellow and probably a gem that someone had mistakenly dropped, or a collectible from one of the many hoarder species on the planet. 

She’d decided that it was as good a peace offering as any. 

Rey didn’t have a Kyber Crystal or the means to make a new lightsaber to offer as consolation instead. She made due with what she had. 

Her thumb ran over where it nestled into her palm, her eyes fixed on the children albeit her attention elsewhere outside of the room. Outside of the planet even, traversing somewhere far off through the galaxy with his only fuel being a hatred that she felt in herself too. Disappointment was immeasurable. Tarnishing the few relationships that she did have was a recurring theme over the past few weeks. 

_ Hey, Finn. It’s not a big deal, but I found this gemstone and it was beautiful and I thought of you… _

Too strong.  _ Way  _ too strong.

_ Um, Finn. This stone symbolizes companionship and adversity in spite of…  _

Too much of a mouthful. Why were these things always so  _ difficult? _

The hiss of the doors stole her attention away with Finn’s entry, a vague expression of surprise betraying her attempts to act natural where he was concerned. If he hadn’t pretended like everything was fine and his bruises from their training altercation underneath his jacket, seh may not have felt such heavy guilt. They hadn’t talked--not personally--and she found the situation too awkward to approach him with while he was with Poe or Rose--something they noticed.

Neither had taken the initiative to explain it just yet.

“Hey,” he greeted her, sounding just as neutral as she expected.

Her expression fell, offering a half-hearted greeting in return. She stepped to the side to offer a few feet of space to give him a clearer view of the room, more so the children’s progress, but he didn’t take it. 

Somehow that made her feel worse. “They’re doing well with just a few days of instruction.” 

Finn bobbed his head in agreement, slowly turning to eye the rest of the room, his hands snaking into the comfort of his pockets. “They are.”

“I can’t help but to think that I still don’t really know what I’m doing.” Rey tried again, an awkward laugh stifling through her lips, her saliva feeling much thicker than before. She swallowed, wringing her hands in front of her. Her gaze turned downcast. 

“Yeah well,” he shrugged. “They’re better off with you than me. I think that they’ve made more progress than I have.”

Her heart dropped, brows creasing into a scowl at the floor. “They still have trouble honing their emotions. You have a better grasp of that in most cases.” She murmured. 

“I have to put up with you and Poe.” He reminded her. “Someone has to be the level-headed one out of the three.” When Rey looked up, he wasn’t looking at her directly. His eyes swept out over the training room in concentration, the attempt at a joke a vast leap compared to the radio silence over the last few days. It instilled her with a bit of hope, but it was a joke that he didn’t acknowledge. Any other time she would roll her eyes and groan and they would share in a mutual less one-sided laugh.

One that didn’t sound so pained coming from her in the form of an awkward chortle. 

“What about Rose?”

“If we considered Rose, there’d be no competition.” A smile slipped, but she didn’t have time to acknowledge it before it was gone. Finn cleared his throat, ducking his head. “Poe wanted to talk to you. That’s why I’m here.”

“Oh.” 

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He waved a hand over the training room. 

“Thanks. Try not to let the room burn down before I get back.” Rey murmured sheepishly--a lighthearted joke that he didn’t return, and without another word, she left Finn’s side to leave the room and make way for the general’s new office. 

She bobbed and weaved through crowded and winding hallways to find the office--avoiding giving much reaction to the subtle glares, it didn’t take long to find Poe, standing at his desk full attention but with ever as apologetic an expression as she had ever seen on him before. Had the circumstances not been so unfortunate before, she may have just asked what ushered such a look from him. 

Except of course, she  _ knew.  _ What else  _ could  _ it have been? 

She averted her eyes, stealing a guilty glance to the floor.

“We’re happy you’re back.” Poe started. “I know that it wasn’t easy with--everything with  _ Kylo _ \--”

“Why have you summoned me here?”

Poe sighed, a long drawn out one that bled exasperation. His hands braced against his hips, ducking his head low as he mulled over words that wouldn’t come. Gnawing on his lower lip, he threw a hand out to the side, gesturing vaguely at the air beside him. “Why do you think? We needed you.”

“To train the force sensitives.” Rey answered.

He nodded. “And help Finn. You were always a part of the Resistance. You always will be. I don’t know why you’re suddenly second-guessing your permission.”

“Because I nearly killed some of them leaving Crait.” She reminded him, and for a moment she thought that he hadn’t remembered, but the subtle flinch told her otherwise. An eyebrow raised, and Rey scoffed in disbelief. “But Ben isn’t welcome? He was Resistance. We cast out our only hope of dealing with General Hux-”

“Do not pull this back around on me.” Poe accused. “ _ You  _ came back. We gave  _ you  _ the choice. Finn asked you and you agreed and left. That wasn’t us. He made his choice and  _ you  _ made  _ yours. _ ”

“We could’ve made a spot for him.” Rey argued. “It didn’t have to be like this.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to do!” His voice cut through the air an octave, bouncing off of steel walls and hitting her with sheer force. He seemed to catch her sudden waver, her gaped expression for he backpedaled. “I just--I can’t do anything about this now. Not yet.”

Rey was throwing her own insecurities on him, demanding that  _ he  _ do something when she was the one at fault. She knew that, and yet she was the one still arguing about who had decided Ben’s fate. She had, when she’d told him that she was going back to the Resistance, abandoning him in the fields to fend for himself. It pained her heart, and suddenly she didn’t blame him for blocking her out; she’d done the same for lesser reasons--and that wasn’t Ben at the time. “I just wanted to  _ help  _ him. I didn’t want him to turn back from the dark side just to be cast out a traitor.”

“He’s committed more war crimes than Darth Vader-” Poe cut himself off, fingers snaking back through his dark brown curls. “Never mind. I didn’t bring you in here to talk about him, I brought you in here to talk about Hux and the New Order. What we’re going to do.”

“What can we do? Fight? We lost a lot of our numbers in the battle of Exogol.” 

“But we also gained a lot of numbers thanks to Leia. We were heard, and people came from the farthest reaches of the galaxy to help. But we’re not ready for another war.” Poe walked around his desk, connecting his fingers with his wrist in a taller stance that bled his authority. It wasn’t consciously. “The sensitives are still kids. It’ll take time.”

“So what are you proposing?” Rey craned her neck to look at him, him stopping at her side now. One hand wavered, but came to clap on her shoulder. She didn’t shake him loose.

“I’m proposing that we spend some time getting some supplies ready.” He suggested. “Go over our inventory, think about a new base somewhere off grid.”

“And you want me to scout for a new base?”

Poe nodded. “With Finn preferably. It’d do the two of you some good.”

Rey grimaced. “You heard?”

“I think the whole Resistance did. They’re not looking at you like that because of Kylo Ren.” He mused aloud, walking out of the office with her in tow. Members rushed around them in a much bigger haste than what she’d noticed before. “Try to see if you can find somewhere that they’re not likely to look, we’ll relocate and go from there. It can’t be any of the planets we’ve been to before.”

“Are you thinking they’re going to build another planet destroyer?” 

“If Hux is as crazy as I think he is, then yes. He won’t do anything until he finds Kylo Ren, and that buys us some time.”

“Shouldn’t we be warning Ben?”

Poe shrugged. “You tell him, he will go straight to Hux himself. Do _ you _ want to risk that?”

She sighed. “ _ No _ .” 

“Good. Do this favor for me, make it up with Finn, and we’ll reconvene with a report by the end of the week. Deal?”

“Alright.”

“Thank you. After this, I  _ promise _ , but he needs to be left in the dark for now and if we can find him, then we’ll tell him everything, keep him out of Hux’s way.”

“After the Resistance.”

“After the Resistance.” A clap on her arm and Poe was turning to her with a newfound resolve. A means to make things up on both sides, however late she knew that already was. Had they been just a few hours earlier, a couple of days or even weeks, then maybe they would have a chance. She didn’t see her convincing Ben anymore now than she had been before. “Don’t worry. He can handle himself.”

“I’m not worried about him.”

“Sure, Rey.” 

Rey was worried, but she only feared that he would trek down the same dark path without her there for reprimand….

She stopped. 

She felt it, yet she couldn’t describe it. Something nibbling on her nerves, on those who wandered the halls of the base. Bitter anticipation possessed them all, only Poe beside her seemed oblivious of it. Confused, if anything. Someone knocked into her shoulder, mumbling a rushed apology before they were off again. 

A glance was exchanged with Poe. 

The filtration system whirred into a somber hum. The noise outside sounded like a quiet pinging, or a muffled crescendo of hisses. Then she recognized the resounding din of faraway blasters, the shriek of resistance. The screams. Then at last, Rey felt death. Wide eyes snapped to Poe, and without wasting another second they ran for the bay door. 


	33. The Siege (Rey)

The stench of death assaulted her senses.

Ajan Kloss swarmed with fleets of the New Order. AT-AT walkers thundered overhead like herds of cattle, their armored bodies toppling whatever was unfortunate enough to lie in their path. Soldiers swarmed, troopers of all varying ranks and personalities made tracks. A resounding din of their blasters assaulted the air, taking down her comrades in the back as they tried to run away.

Rey was horrified.

Poe was the one to shake her out of her momentary trance, both hands gripping her shoulders and giving her a firm shake. "Go find Finn!" He ordered, already backing away with all intentions of joining the fight. A blaster was taken from the holster at his hip, pointing back in the direction they'd come. "Get the kids out. First priority is getting out of here, then we'll make contact, find a mutual meeting spot. Go!"

Wordlessly, Rey pivoted on her heel and ran back through the bay door, narrowly dodging a blast to her shoulder. It smacked against the door behind her as it closed, the loud hissing being the only indicator that someone had shot at her at all. She was too lost in her own panic to think about anything else, all attempts at reaching out to Ben were left unanswered.

He was still blocking her out.

"Finn!" She called, bursting through the door that led to their makeshift training room, scanning around for any sign of her friend. They were all gone.

"Finn!" The words were pushed through the compression in her chest again, bated breaths expelled in panicked gasps. Eyes wide, sweat beaded on her forehead, and ran down the back of her neck.

To her relief, he answered her, emerging from the back room, bursting through the open door way in just as much of a disheveled state as she did. "Rey, thank God! Are you alright?" Selfishly, his concern left her with a grim satisfaction after the complete radio silence that had settled between them the last few days.

No, she couldn't think about that.

"I'm okay! Where are the children?"

"Rose took them. She said that she was going to take the first flight out of here and move them to a safer location. She asked me to go with her, but I told her that I was going to stay behind and help take care of the others."

Grim satisfaction indeed.

"Poe is outside. They're coming from everywhere!" Rey jerked her head and the two were running down the hallway, their feet pounded against the ground with a resounding clunk of the material, bursting through the bay door just as she had with Poe moments before.

It really wasn't a nightmare.

* * *

Rey twirled her lightsaber in a vicious motion, jerking it through the plastoid composite that made up a Stormtroopers armor. It elicited a scream that echoed across the jungle, one last painful cry as her heel dug into their knee to keep them down. One hand grabbed for the blaster in their hand, a nearby crunching of the forest underfoot signaling another intruder.

She aimed the blaster behind her. With one distortion of light, it planted itself in new flesh. A crumple at her feet assured her that she'd been right on target, wrenching the saber out of the body. She slipped it around and plunged it through the throat of the victim she held, one vicious twist and they went still.

Shoving them forward into the dirt, she rushed over to Finn, looking much worse for wear than when she'd sent him off with a few moments prior. Rey's hair was coming undone, and she took no attempts at fixing it for the moment. "Are you okay?" She reached up to grasp his face, inspecting his bleeding nose with a soft grimace.

Finn's expression faltered into slack relief at the sight of her. He lowered his blaster, brows knitting. More muffled, popping gunfire sounded around them, the booming march of invaders shook the encampment- a hot glow slanted through every crevice as a sudden fire closed in.

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm fine under the current circumstances."

A hand found her shoulder, holding firm as he leaned to glance along her face, her arms, anywhere that might call to his notice. Behind them, another resounding footstep. Finn drew his blaster and whirled to fire two shots into the face of a shadowy intruder; loud, piercing sounds. The trooper crumpled.

A bright flash briefly blinded her, a loud boom resounded as a structure exploded off to their left. She held up a hand to shield against it. More were coming. "Poe gave us orders to evacuate." She went on, not batting an eye. "He said that we would regroup later." And she would gladly die here if it meant protecting her friends. "We've managed to hold them off so far, but the New Order isn't showing any signs of slowing down."

"I'm at your disposal." A half-hearted grin. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

At the sign of more troops, filtering in from the fires, from beyond, Rey closed her eyes and stepped back. More would come barreling around the corner. No longer was this any kind of siege.

It was an extermination.

Rey lurched for cover beside one of their shoddy, dilapidating structures, checked her blaster, her saber and fired around the frame. There was a heavy thud ahead, followed by an agonized groan. "This place is a lost cause." She murmured.

More creaking, more popping gunfire, more screaming-several that she recognized. She stayed close to Finn, tentative fingers wove down the curve of his elbow, holding steadfast. "There's too many."

"It's too dangerous to stay here. The others can take care of themselves." Finn rose from where he'd crouched behind the structure.

At his statement, Rey blinked, and in a matter of seconds appeared hopelessly sad. Her current skills would only get her so far. As much as she hated to admit it, he made sense. If they died here, it would have been for nothing. The girl's eyes welled with tears as she refused to avert them from Finn's stare.

"I know," she croaked. "We have to go." Moving out from behind the structure, she motioned for him to follow before taking off across the clearing. A shot hissed just past her ear Finn Thankfully on her other side. The sound of an explosion sent her shuffling closer to Finn, running side by side through the brush. A large shudder shook the ground at their feet, rattling the sturdiness of their camp. There were no talks. There was only an exchange of shots to see who had the superior firepower.

They'd been running through the forest for a while now, firing shot after shot into the air with the hope of hitting something. Leaping over a cluttered mess of bodies from her comrades and members of the New Order alike, they split through the forest in the direction of their landing bay. Dozens of starships lifted off into the air, their engines booming in the chaos making her ears pop.

Shots fired into the air, the majority of which missing their target. The ships soared into the atmosphere, and only one didn't make it. It exploded into a shower of shards and plating, the debris soaring back into the atmosphere. More panicked yells resounded where it hit the ground. Its blast radius was enough to knock her back a few feet, grasping out a hand to steady Finn.

Rey looked around.

All of the ships were gone.

"Dammit." She hissed, threading her fingers through her disheveled hair, finally freeing the remainder from its tight confines. Brown hair fell just at her shoulders, slicked from the damp heat. "Let's keep going this way. If we can't get off the planet, then we can at least get away from the fight!"

"Then let's go!"

Reality hit her hard in the moments that Rey barreled through the forest with Finn. It should have been expected that when she thought that she could pursue something like this, chase it with both hands outstretched and willed fate to let her have it. Fate existed, and it was held in the hands of someone else who controlled her every movement like a dancing marionette. She would have only what it wanted her to have, and if she was told to go back to Tattooine and live her miserable life there in isolation, she would have no choice but to do it.

Ben wasn't a part of that. Finn or Poe weren't a part of that, and while she was right about a lot of things, she was wrong in telling Ben that he had a choice. He hadn't. She'd squeezed into his life without meaning to, had given him more grief than she could ever hope to atone for at any given time, had made him feel something, a sort of string taught between them and begging to close the distance. He'd wanted it, had held it in his hands and just like the parts to a play, they were on to the next act and someone else was setting the stage.

They neared a cliff edge. No other choice than to climb down from here.

"Rey!" Finn broke her from her thoughts when he barreled into her side and sent them in a flurry of tangled limbs through the grassy clearing. She almost yelled out in protest, up until she heard the sound of a blaster, saw the flurry of light in a passing second over their heads.

Oh, no.

Her lips parted, untangling herself from Finn to grab blindly for her lightsaber. A stormtrooper towered above her, a harsh kick sending her weapon skittering over the edge. She gasped, the words: run, you need to run now, tipping against the edge of her mind and attempting to spill from her lips in a desperate warning.

There were at least a dozen of them, advancing on the pair with their weapons primed at the ready. She stood in front of Finn. One of them fired. A shot ripped through Rey's knee and sent her buckling with a loud cry that echoed over the cliff. A few pained gasps escaped her, her breathing suddenly ragged as she struggled to maintain her composure.

Troops advanced past her on Finn, shuffling him back toward the edge of the cliff-

"Stop!" She pleaded.

He was knocked over, his hand grabbing for the edge, managing a tight but precarious hold.

In the next few passing seconds-much faster than what she could keep up with-they grabbed ahold of Rey and held her down, pinning her arms to her back and snapping her head with a tight grip on her hair.

"Let go!" Rey snapped back, writhing underneath them, her jerking doing very little to promise any sort of freedom. Her chest heaved, baring her teeth into a snarl. "Let go of me!"

"You knew this was coming. It was only a matter of time." Troopers parted to let Hux pass, overly dressed as always with that coy and cruel flat line that served as a smile. It made her skin crawl. "You all did this when you refused to give up the location of Kylo Ren. I was suggesting a partnership, and yet you still protect him."

At his order, they maneuvered toward Finn. She saw a blaster flash outside of her peripherals. Another shot split through the air just above his head. He flinched, his hold wavering for the barest second. They weren't easy. Only efficient.

Rey's heart stopped, her already pale face being forcibly shoved down into the grass when she fought them harder. "You're going to die!" She threatened with a snapping of teeth, spitting dirt from her mouth.

A few kicks were delivered to her stomach, Rey's chest heaving with the assault, the air leaving her lungs and being thrown to the wind that scarcely touched her now. She was overheating, snapping and snarling at her captors. There were too many, and she had nothing.

Her adrenaline dulled the pain to a degree, but the sight of Finn dangling over the edge was enough to send it careening back. "Let him go!" She growled through bated breaths, her lungs screaming, bile rising up in her throat with a pounding ache in her ribs that promised a few fractures. Blood poured from her nose with an extra kick that had been delivered to her face-that one more of a personal grudge than an attempt to keep her sedated.

"This can all be avoided if you give up the location of Kylo Ren." Hux sighed.

"Let him go." She spat with the same amount of malice as before.

"Where is Kylo Ren?!" Hux yelled.

As if merely teasing her, watching her form heaving with panicked gasps on the ground, her struggling became less strenuous, a sudden jerk here and there from a tired girl that hadn't quite lost her spirit just yet, the gun was held at Finn's head.

"Please stop." Rey's brows were drawn into raw, bleeding panic, blood spilling down her lips and into her mouth. "Please don't do this." She pleaded into a shuddering cry, and she begged and every ounce pushed from her chest was genuine. Above her head, ships were shot down one by one. Flames painted the sky red.

"Just take her." Hux barked. "We don't need him."

Rey snapped, willing and begging the Force to her aid.

It came.

She threw the one holding her, scrambling to her feet with a noticeable limp. Throwing an outstretched hand, the others were pushed back with a harsh shove that bent the tree's branches above their heads. One armed against Finn was sent careening over the edge with a flick of her wrist. She ran to him, grabbing at his hands as the other troopers advanced behind her.

"Rey, just go!" Finn pleaded. "Go find Poe. Get out of here!"

"I don't have time for your self-sacrificing bantha-shit right now." Rey ignored him, her hands grabbing his wrists in a white knuckled grip. She wavered the tiniest amount, pulling with as much might as she could muster. Finn attempted to help, heaving upward with his weight, but he wavered, the two nearly teetering over the edge when he fell back down.

"Rey!"

"Shut up!" She heard them behind her, advancing. Every weapon was primed at the ready.

She had to think, had to think. There was only one option. "I'm really sorry about this."

His lips parted to ask, and she didn't give him any time. She wrenched his hands free from the cliff's edge, holding a tight grip to his wrists-

"What are you doing?" Finn gasped. He looked up at her, eyes widening in terror. It pained her to see the look on his face, so devoid of hope and wavering trust.

"I need you to trust me!" Without thinking on this part, she allowed her body to fall forward. The two of them tumbled over the cliff, and together, they plummeted.


End file.
